


After the Fire

by DrMarthaJones



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Missing Moments, Period-Typical Racism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-03-28 09:42:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13901367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrMarthaJones/pseuds/DrMarthaJones
Summary: Phillip's family comes to visit him in the hospital after the fire and, to their chagrin, encounter Anne. But she isn't going to let anyone come between her and Phillip anymore





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story and I am super nervous about it! I hope no one is out of character.
> 
> This chapter just focuses on Anne and Phillip and their conversation after their kiss

Anne was still a mess from the fire: covered in soot and a few bruises, and she hadn’t changed in the past thirty hours. But she didn’t care and she doubted Phillip did either. Not with the way he was kissing her back. She could feel Phillip’s hand moving feebly through her curly hair.

Phillip suddenly broke away from their kiss and turned his head just slightly to break out in a fit of coughing that racked his whole body. His grip in Anne’s hair and on her shoulder tightened. Anne winced and looked around wildly for a nurse. She probably shouldn’t have kissed him quite so hard. But he was alive, and he was awake, and she wasn’t going to let him live another second thinking he didn’t mean something to her.

Suddenly a nurse was at her shoulder, shooing her out of the way. Anne jumped up, pulling herself out of Phillip’s grasp. His hands fell limply off her – he was too busy coughing to notice her disappear. Anne stood back, hands clasped in front of her chest, chewing her lip as she watched the nurse help Phillip sit up and lean forward, and held a cup of water to his lips as his coughing subsided. Finally, he collapsed back on his pillows.

“You’re going to be fine, Mr. Carlyle,” the nurse assured him in a smooth voice. “You have sustained some burns which we can take care of, and some cuts and bruises from falling debris which are minor. You took in quite a bit of smoke, but your body needs to heal on its own. All we can do is keep you rested and your burns cleaned.” Phillip nodded weakly.

The nurse had already explained all this to Anne, before they knew if he would wake up. This nurse, Nurse Redfern, was kind. The other nurses all ignored her or even gave her dirty looks when they came to tend to Phillip; the male doctor had even objected to her presence, but Anne knew she couldn’t leave his side. No one could make her. Mr. Barnum had stood up for her. He had stayed by Phillip’s side until they were told that nothing could be done. In the end, the money Mr. Barnum was paying to the fancy hospital had won over the doctor’s prejudice, and Mr. Barnum had left to find the rest of the circus somewhere to sleep for the night.

As Nurse Redfern left them, Anne saw Phillip’s hand twitch, reaching for her. She practically leapt back to her place on his bed.

He was smiling up at her. “You’re alive, you’re here,” he croaked. Saying it made his face light up; he reached up and brushed his hands through her hair again, and it gave Anne’s stomach butterflies; slightly guilty butterflies. “How did you get out? When I got in there everything was on fire, and I thought for sure…” he trailed off, shaking slightly. And then he had a fit of coughing.

Anne bit her lip, feeling awful. “Phillip,” she whispered. “I wasn’t in there. I was already out. When I heard people shouting ‘fire’, I was in mine and Lettie’s room. The stairs were already on fire, so I climbed out the window,” she explained.

Phillip ran his thumb over her hand. “From the…” he thought for a minute where her room was, “third floor?” he coughed.

She giggled. “Down the drain pipe. It was easy.”

Phillip chuckled too, until he coughed, and Anne held the water glass to his lips. He sipped sheepishly.

“Thank God,” he whispered, once he had stopped coughing. He grasped her hands tighter. “Thank God you’re alright.” And he meant it, she could see it all over his face. Then he frowned. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” For the first time his eyes roved over her face and down her body properly, checking for burns.

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “Just breathed a bit of smoke. Not as much as you.” She looked down at their joined hands, guilt gnawing at her stomach. For the first time, she didn’t notice the difference of his pale hands against her darker ones, but her clean hands against his burned and sooty ones. She hadn’t even been in there.

“Phillip…thank you. You shouldn’t have…I wasn’t even in there…you shouldn’t have risked your life coming after me,” she whispered, without looking up from their hands. She felt tears welling up but she refused to cry. It wouldn’t do to upset him.

“I had to,” Phillip said quietly.

“It was stupid.”

“I had to, I thought you were in there.”

“You could have died.”

“You’re worth it.”

Anne gulped. She knew he thought so, that’s why they were in this hospital bed in the first place, but hearing him say it out loud was scary. She wasn’t supposed to be worth the dirt on Phillip’s shoes, let alone his life.

Phillip read her face like a book – he always did. “I’m sorry,” he said, closing his eyes. “I know it upsets you when I say things like that, but it’s true.”

Anne leaned forward instinctively, then caught herself out of habit, butterflies in a frenzy in her stomach. But she gathered enough courage to press her forehead against Phillip’s. His eyes flew open and she felt his sharp exhale against her face.

“I thought I made it clear that I’ve changed my mind…and it makes me very happy,” she said with a smile. Phillip smiled too, and she felt his hand on the back of her neck, pulling her into another warm kiss. The butterflies in Anne’s stomach soared. She clearly hadn’t learned her lesson, and she kissed him until she sent him into another coughing fit.

Anne rubbed his back until his body stopped shaking. It felt weird to be touching him; wonderful, but weird. Except for that one night after the theatre fiasco, and the other theatre fiasco when he had let go of her hand; they barely ever touched. And usually it was him finding an excuse to touch her; to help her up or brush her shoulder as he walked by. Now she was holding his hand, and rubbing his back, and kissing him, and it gave her jitters every time she did. How had she denied herself this?

Phillip had finished coughing and collapsed back onto his pillows. He was exhausted; she could tell. He needed rest.

Suddenly his eyes widened. “How did I get out?” he asked.

“Mr. Barnum went in after you,” Anne told him.

Phillip panicked. “But the girls! Is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” Anne assured him. “He wasn’t in there as long as you were.”

“And everyone else? I think we got them all out.”

“You and W.D. did. Everyone’s fine: just some minor burns and some smoke. Mr. Barnum even paid to have them come here, but they’ve all been sent home.”

Phillip relaxed upon hearing this. He was still holding her hand, gently rubbing the back of it with his thumb.

“And the circus?” He asked nervously, as if he already knew the answer.

Anne looked away, across the bright hospital ward; she didn’t want him to see the tears that were stinging her eyes.

“Gone,” she managed to whisper. “The building collapsed.” She turned back to him, to see his face looking as crestfallen as she felt. He didn’t live there, but the circus was his home too. He squeezed her hand tighter and brought it to his chest.

“On top of you,” she said more playfully, reaching out to rub her thumb across the nasty cut on his forehead. It was just another excuse to touch him, and her touch made him smile. His eyes fluttered closed, and it looked like it took a great effort to open them again.

“You need to sleep. That’s what Nurse Redfern said. You need to heal.”

“You need to rest too. How long have you been here?” Phillip asked.

“About thirty hours,” Anne said wryly. She had fallen into fitful sleep for an hour at a time while waiting for him to wake, but she hadn’t eaten anything, and her body was starting to notice.

“Anne,” Phillip said. “You need to sleep; you need to eat something. Go home, I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t have a home,” Anne reminded him, and neither of them could say anything for a moment.

“Where’s W.D.?” Phillip asked. “Or – my apartment – you can go there and sleep. All of you can – ” Phillip was getting worked up now.

“I think Mr Barnum found everyone somewhere. I’ll go find W.D. You need to sleep, Mr. Carlyle.”

Phillip was practically asleep already, his exhaustion and injury pulling him under. “Promise me you’ll go?” Phillip mumbled.

“I promise,” Anne said, suppressing a yawn herself. “Once you’re asleep, I’ll go.” She leaned forward and kissed Phillip on the forehead – because she could now, and she wasn’t going to let anything stop her again. He was already asleep and Anne felt her own eyes drooping. In a moment she would get up and find W.D.. He would be worrying about her. Everyone would want to know that Phillip was okay.

Anne rested her head against Phillip’s chest for just a second, and the next moment she was sound asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phillip's family arrives at the hospital, and they are not pleased to find Anne with him.

Anne felt safe. She drifted pleasantly in that strange space between sleeping and waking where she was aware of everything happening around her as if it was all a dream.

She was aware of Phillip’s chest beneath her head, his warmth and his slowly beating heart. She was aware of his hand resting at the small of her back as she leaned against his chest. She was aware, from the sounds they made, of the nurses bustling around them. And soon, she was aware of someone shouting.

“My son! Where is my son?” A frantic female voice, something about it familiar, faint and far away.

Another voice joined it. “Phillip Carlyle. He should have been admitted day before yesterday. Show us to him.” An impressive, haughty voice.

“Right, this way, Sir.”

Who was that? Someone for Phillip? No one from the circus would talk like that. The thinking was waking Anne up, and the closer she came to waking, the clearer her thoughts became. _My son._

“Phillip!” the woman’s voice was growing louder now. “My…son…”

A third voice, the doctor from earlier. “I’m sorry. We couldn’t get her to leave.”

 _That’s me,_ thought Anne, and suddenly she was awake, blinking sleep from her eyes. It was Phillip’s family.

The first thing Anne saw was the face of Nurse Redfern, holding a bloody towel as she attended another patient, giving Anne a look half of pity, half of encouragement. Slowly Anne turned and found herself, once again, face to face with Phillip’s parents.

They stood staring at her as if she had three heads. They were nearly as dressed up as the last time she had seen them, though this was a hospital, not a fancy theatre. Behind them stood a girl about her own age, who looked so remarkably like Phillip it could have been him wearing a dress. Her dark hair was pinned up properly on top of her head, and she wore white gloves, which gripped like talons into the shoulders of a little boy, no more than 12. He too had dark hair and his piercing blue eyes stared at Anne like those of an owl, but here his resemblance to Phillip ended: he much more closely resembled his father. From what they had all learned about Phillip from Lettie and Tom goading him as they all puttered around back stage between shows, Anne knew this to be Eliza and Samuel Carlyle, Phillip’s younger sister and brother. She knew nothing of what they were like.

Anne sat up; Phillip’s arm slid from her back and he muttered in his sleep. Part of her – a large part – hoped he would wake up and save her from them all.

“What is she doing here?” Phillip’s father barked. “How dare she lie all over my son, for all the world to see! Who let her in here? This is a hospital.”

Anne felt a familiar sinking feeling in her stomach. Of course this was happening. She had no idea what to do.

Mr. Carlyle glared at everyone around him as he strode down the hospital ward, sending nurses scurrying out of his way. Anne could hardly bring herself to watch the family approach.

Mrs. Carlyle rushed ahead of her husband, scampering as quickly as propriety – and her ridiculous dress – would allow. “Out of my way,” she gasped at Anne as she approached the bed. Instinctively, without hesitation, Anne jumped off the bed and scurried backwards out of her way. It was too much of a habit; the rules of the world outside the circus were ingrained in her bones: when a white lady tells you to do something, you do it.

Still, her heart ached when Phillip groaned as her weight disappeared, his brow furrowing and hand twitching as if looking for her. She had so desperately wanted things to be different now: all those long hours she hadn’t known whether he would wake up, she had wanted to have the courage to make things different, to rewrite their stars, and here she was running away again.

Mrs. Carlyle dropped down onto the bed in Anne’s spot, jostling Phillip and bringing up a round of coughing in his sleep.

“My little boy,” she wailed, excessively loudly. “Nurse, nurse,” she snapped her fingers at the nearest woman. “Who’s attending to his coughing?”

The rest of his family crowded his bed now. His father strode past Anne without a glance in her direction, and stood over Phillip’s bed on the other side. His siblings both stared openly at her as they passed.

The little boy was only a few years older than Caroline – but he looked at her as he passed with such vitriol that Anne actually stepped back. He was a product of his parents then. One thing made him different though: unlike anyone else of Phillip’s class, he stared directly into her eyes, and they were burning with fury. He went and stood beside his father, and when he looked at Phillip, tears started rolling down his cheeks.

His sister came next and Anne braced herself, but Eliza looked at her with curiosity…and pity perhaps…not quite pity. Sympathy. Before Anne could meet her eyes, she turned toward her brother, standing at the end of the bed, blocking Anne’s view of Phillip.

Anne didn’t know what to do. She wanted to cry, but she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. Mrs. Carlyle was fussing over Phillip, still restless in his sleep, and Mr. Carlyle was scolding his younger son: “Be a man, stop those tears, boy.”

Anne wanted nothing more than to be back at Phillip’s side. But she also wanted to sleep. Was it running away if she left? She had promised herself that she wouldn’t let anyone else stop her and Phillip being together, but did she have to start now, when she was so tired and hungry…with no Phillip to back her up? Mr. Carlyle kept glaring at her – he was looking at her more than his own son, as if trying to decide whether he should tell her to leave or if it was beneath his dignity to speak to her. It wasn’t fair, she knew Phillip wanted her here; he was still tossing and grumbling in his sleep, a cough racking his body every time he started to settle down. But he had also wanted her to go, to be comfortable. It would be so easy to turn and walk out to find W.D., and let him find her food and somewhere to sleep, the way he had her whole life. Back when that’s all she had needed to be content. But now she had tasted so much more of life.

Mr. Carlyle was speaking to Samuel, the little boy. “This will bring him to senses, Sam. When he wakes up, we’ll take him back home. Besides, there’s no circus for him anymore.”

Mrs. Carlyle was yelling at Nurse Redfern. “What do you mean there’s nothing you can do? Can’t you give him something to calm him?”

“His body needs to heal – he just needs to rest.”

“Well, he’s not resting!”

Anne had to say something. “Excuse me,” she whispered.

“What sort of place is this? Has he been like this since he got here?” Mrs. Carlyle said.

Nurse Redfern glanced toward Anne. “No, Ma’am, he was quiet earlier.”

Anne took a deep breath and stepped forward. “Excuse me,” she said, louder this time, and proud of how steady her voice sounded. Everyone turned to look at her – and it was nothing like being on the stage. At the circus, she was stared at with awe; here, with disgust. “I think Phillip was comfortable when I was holding his hand.” She could hardly believe the words coming out of her mouth. Neither could anybody else, apparently.

Mr. Carlyle looked apoplectic. He opened his mouth but made no sound. The little boy checked what his father was doing before glaring as well. Phillip’s sister looked taken aback, but also slightly amused.

“How are you?” Mrs. Carlyle said shrilly. “How dare you…address him in such a manner,” she was surprised to hear Anne use his first name. “How are you hold his…and where everyone can see you.” She could hardly get the words out.

Her anxiety was disturbing Phillip: she was still clutching his hand while she gestured. He was still muttering in his sleep.

“Hush, Mother, you’re making it worse.” Phillip’s sister approached him with concern.

“Maybe if you let me…” Anne tried again.

“I will not,” snapped Mrs. Carlyle.

“Mother, I think she’s right.” Eliza turned towards her. “Are you Anne, miss?”

How they could possibly have learned her name was a mystery to Anne, unless Mr. Barnum had mentioned her when he wrote to tell them Phillip had been injured, and she seriously hoped he hadn’t. But she nodded.

Eliza beckoned her. “Come here.” Anne was shocked – along with everyone else – and stumbled forward. “He wants this…lady here, Mother, listen, he’s saying her name.”

Anne’s heart skipped a beat. She could see Phillip’s lips moving, ever so slightly, but she couldn’t hear anything from here.

“Nonsense! It’s gibberish,” Mrs. Carlyle said, but she didn’t sound so sure.

Anne wanted to hear him saying her name. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised: Phillip had always made it clear how much he cared for her. What was surprising was that this woman was still beckoning her forward. Anne had promised herself she would be brave…so she stepped forward. Phillip’s sister – Miss Eliza – reached out and took her hand – Anne couldn’t believe it – and went to place it in Phillip’s.

Suddenly another hand grabbed her. Mrs. Carlyle grabbed her wrist roughly before she could touch Phillip. From the look on her face, Anne was sure she could have pushed her away, propriety be damned, but she didn’t need to – Anne recoiled as if burned, and backed away from the bed. What was she thinking?

“Eliza, what are you thinking?” Mrs. Carlyle gasped. “This woman should have nothing to do with Phillip, and you know it.”

“Mama, he’s asking for her,” Eliza said.

“He’s delirious. She shouldn’t even be here.” Mrs. Carlyle wouldn’t even look at Anne. “It’s her fault that he’s here – you read that Barnum man’s letter. This is all her fault – not just this, but his refusal to answer our letters, abandoning his family – it’s because of her. And I think we all know what she gives him that was worth running into that fire for.” Anne felt her face burning in shame. Is that what they thought of her? Why on earth was she surprised?

“I’ve had enough of his,” Mr. Carlyle spoke now, in his deep, authoritative voice. Anne was very familiar with voices like his, and the entitled white men they belonged to. Everyone was now looking at her – Eliza with sympathy, the little boy with fear, and Mr and Mrs. Carlyle with hatred – and the doctor Mr. Carlyle was waving over also was filled with hatred.

“I don’t know why you let this woman in here. This is a hospital, aren’t you supposed to keep it clean?” It was as if he had taken a knife and stabbed Anne in the stomach. No matter how many times she heard things like that, it never hurt any less. “Please remove this woman.”

“Alright, miss,” the doctor said, moving toward her. But he needn’t have bothered, Anne had already turned away from all the stares and she fled down the ward, past sunny windows and sickly patients and a concerned-looking Nurse Redfern.

It was too scary, facing his family, when she knew they would always have their way, and too hard to do without Phillip. She ran out of the ward and down the stairs.

She wanted to get out of there before she started crying – because his parents hated her, because she was reminded that she was not his equal, not to anyone outside the circus, because Phillip needed her and she couldn’t be there. She was running away again.

But if there was one thing the fire had taught her, it was that Phillip would follow her anywhere. So she could run, and he would find her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I'll be able to update as quickly this time, but the next chapter is definitely in the works!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza Carlyle reflects on her brother running off to join the circus

Anne burst through the hospital front doors and was halfway down the great white stone steps when she heard her name being called. “Miss…Miss…Miss Anne!”

Anne stopped and turned around. Eliza Carlyle was standing at the top of the steps. Anne gulped and held her head as high as she could. Miss Carlyle raised her arms and dropped them again futilely, looking unsure of what she had even come out here for.

“Do you…have you eaten? Here, let me give you something, for some food.” She started fumbling for her purse. Anne’s stomach twisted.

“No, thank you, miss,” she managed to say.

“No? Listen, I don’t know where you live, but if you need money for a room…here let me help.”

“I don’t want your money,” Anne said, and it came out more harshly than she meant it to. “I have my own, miss.” The poor girl didn’t have any other way of expressing…whatever she was trying to express.

“Oh okay. Of course. Um…where can I send for you if…if Phillip asks for you?”

Anne couldn’t help but raise her eyebrows at the woman. Anne highly doubted her parents would allow that. Miss Carlyle shuffled her feet. “Don’t think I don’t want my brother to be happy. He’ll never heal if he’s not.” She wouldn’t meet Anne’s eye, as if admitting this way somehow embarrassing. Or, more likely, the fact that a woman like Anne could make him happy was what was embarrassing.

Slowly, Anne nodded. She wasn’t sure where she could be found, so she gave the address of the Barnums, and told her to leave a message with the bartender of the circus’s favourite pub as well.

“Thank you. Listen…I’m sorry,” Miss Carlyle gestured back into the hospital, back to Phillip needing her and his family hating her. Anne really wasn’t sure what to say to that. She couldn’t say it was okay, because it wasn’t. And her tongue always got stuck talking to high society white women like Miss Carlyle. Before she could think of anything, the woman had turned to go back inside. Then she stopped and turned back to Anne.

“ _Was_ it you? That he went back for? Barnum’s letter just said he went back for the trapeze artist. Mother and Father feared it was his … his girl. I suppose it was you?”

“Yes, miss.” Anne shifted uncomfortably, not sure what to make of being 'Phillip's girl.'

“Ah. Okay then.” Miss Carlyle seemed disappointed, or taken aback, by this news. Anne supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. She could hardly believe it herself.

Miss Carlyle gave her a half-hearted attempt at a smile, and then disappeared back into the hospital.

Anne left to find the rest of her family.  
                                                                                                                       ***  
Eliza turned and walked back inside. Sot that was the girl who had caught Phillip’s eye – and stolen his heart, apparently. She was surprised, but not for the same reasons her parents were. Phillip had never really showed any interest in the ladies that moved in their circle, and Eliza always assumed that it was because she knew her brother had never been interested in following in their father’s footsteps and taking over his company. When Phillip had turned the stories he loved to write into a real moneymaker, she, unlike their parents, had not been surprised. She knew regular girls bored him, just like their father’s business did, but he never really had much of an eye for the types of girls men went after at their age either: social climbers or disreputable girls. Still, Eliza knew that when Phillip fell, he would fall hard. She still didn’t expect this.

When Phillip showed up at the house one day, breathlessly saying he had signed on as Junior Partner at Barnum’s Circus, Eliza had laughed, and asked if he had been drunk – her brother often was; everyone thought it was part of his edgy rebellious artist persona, but Eliza hated it. He had been, of course, but he didn’t seem to want to get out of it. “You should see the show, Lizzie,” he had said, too energized to sit down, splashing whiskey from his glass as he wandered around the parlour. “It’s alive – they’re alive. Everyone on my stage is dead. And it takes real talent, Lizzie, every one of them, and guts. And they are so…beautiful.” He had stopped dead then, took a sip of his whiskey, stared off into space.

Eliza had taken this moment to remind him that Mother and Father would lose it when they found out. Phillip had shrugged. It was different for him, he was a man. He had already moved out, and he had his own income. He normally liked to please Mother, but something about this circus had captured his imagination.

Since then, her brother had been like a ghost. The circus kept him incredibly busy, and once Mother and Father had found out about his little business venture from the papers, they gave him such a hard time, going so far as to threaten his fortune, that he generally avoided the house and he had no patience for his old crowd. But when he found time to drop Eliza a line, or stopped by to see Sam (before Mother and Father put a stop to that), he seemed happier than she had ever known him to be. He had never mentioned this Anne though.

She found out about Anne through her parents. They had gone to the Jenny Lind show because it was the thing to do, but they hated that people were gleefully talking about Phillip’s role in bringing the nightingale to this side of the Atlantic. Secretly, she knew they hoped to run into him, and speak to him. They came home furious instead. Phillip had avoided them at the gala, and appeared to have left early. And they had been almost too embarrassed to report that they were sure they saw him holding the hand of a mulatto woman. Eliza wasn’t as surprised as they were. Phillip had barely ever cared about propriety anyway and her perception of the circus was that of one big orgy, so if he had finally started paying attention to women at the back of dark theatres, it wasn’t a shock to Eliza.

Everything changed when Phillip ran into them at the Theatre completely by accident. He was arriving for a performance as they were leaving, and he had that same woman on his arm, escorting her in. Phillip had taken offense at the way they spoke about her (Eliza wasn’t surprised; they were not always kind people) had apparently spoken insubordinately to them in front of the other theatre goers, and then chased the woman off into the night. That very evening Father had rewritten his will in favour of Sam, and sent Phillip a note to tell him so, but Phillip didn’t respond. When he came to the house to see Sam he was refused entry, and he had not tried again. Eliza worried that Phillip would let Father cut him off forever: that he would rather martyr himself than give up one girl for his family.

And then they heard about the fire, and this morning got the letter. And now she had met the woman Phillip had sprinted into a burning building for. In truth, Eliza believed Phillip would run into a burning building for his worst enemy, but she was clearly more than that. He was saying her name in his sleep.

The girl was dedicated to him, that much was clear, but perhaps that’s just how her people were, especially when someone showed them a little bit of attention. Mother might even be right, about what she gave him. Eliza wasn’t sure what to make of it all – whether to believe her brother to be foolish or romantic, whether she wanted him to see sense, or if he was seeing clearer than all of them. All she knew was that he had nearly died, and she needed him to get better and no matter what he needed for that, she would get for him.

She had reached Phillip’s bedside once again. Mother sat on his bed, with Sam on the other side, desperately trying to hold in his tears, and mostly failing. Father still stood, giving her a look for following that Anne woman, so Eliza took an empty chair.

Phillip was, if anything, worse than before. He was asleep, but his head tossed from side to side every so often; when he wasn’t coughing, his breathing was rasping, and his hand was still twitching, looking for something. He was too far away, but she was sure he was still muttering about Anne.

“Well? She’s run off?” Father said.

Eliza nodded.

“I hope no one saw her. I don’t recognize any of these patients, but I hope none of them had visitors,” Mother said, looking around.

“I got the sense she was here all morning,” Eliza said. It hardly mattered right now. People were going to talk about Phillip either way, especially now after the fire.

“The nerve,” mother tsked.

“Well, she won’t be back, I won’t allow the doctors to let her in,” Father said.

“Daddy, what if he wants her?” Eliza said. Surely it was reasonable that he would want the comfort of his new friends while lying in the hospital. Eliza wouldn’t be surprised if more circus performers showed up. Phillip was probably a good boss.

“We can’t always get what we want,” Father said. “It’s for his own good. I have a duty, as a father.” Father put his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “We’ll take him home to heal. Invite round some of his old friends. I don’t know whether he feels superior around those people, or he wants to play hero to that girl, but it isn’t good for his head. I’m sure after this, he’ll want to come back to the real world.” He spoke more to Mother than to her. Eliza couldn’t help but hope that was true, but it didn’t sound right to her.

“I never want to see her near him again,” Mother spat. “You saw – she is the one that nearly got him killed. Can you imagine if our Phillip, a fourth generation Carlyle first born son, had died over one dime a dozen girl like her.”  
Eliza bit her lip. Even to her, that sounded cruel. Surely that girl was as important to some people as Phillip was to them. And not just Phillip either.

“What can he have been thinking?” Mother said, but then they all stopped because Phillip gave an incoherent yell. This brought on a bout of coughing and he started to toss and turn in earnest.

“He’s waking up,” Eliza said. Everyone leaned over him. Sam grabbed his arm.

“Anne!” Phillip yelled, and Mother sat back in shock. Nobody dared look at each other.

“Anne! Anne!”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phillip wakes up surrounded by his estranged family, unsure about whether Anne is really okay or if he just dreamed it

Phillip was comfortable, but it didn’t last for long. There was a heavy weight on him, and he was dreaming that it was Anne, laying against his chest. He was dreaming that he could feel her breathing, that her body was warm, and that her hair was tickling his chin. But soon that weight disappeared and the dream fell away too, and instead Phillip could hear the roaring of fire all around him. He tried to breathe, but found he couldn’t, and his throat stung. He was in the circus – and it was burning – and Anne was missing – _she was in here –_ he had to find her – and suddenly he could see the flames jumping all around him. All he could breathe was thick smoke. He could not see Anne, but he could see every shadow where she might be lying, burning, and he didn’t know where to run first. He tried to call her name, but his breath wouldn’t leave his body, and she wasn’t answering – it was too late. Phillip was sure she was upstairs – he seemed to remember her telling him so – so he sprinted to the stairs – they were burning but he took two steps up, they collapsed and everything went black.

And he woke with a jolt. It was bright and he couldn’t breathe. Phillip tried to suck air into his lungs but couldn’t get any and there were voices all around. Phillip had no idea where he was – did he just get out of the fire? He couldn’t breathe. Someone pressed something to his mouth and he nearly choked on water and someone else said, “Mother, leave him alone!”

Finally, Phillip managed to suck some cool air into his lungs and everything snapped into clarity. He was lying in a hospital bed. He knew that much. He had been awake, and Anne had been here; so she was alright. Or had that just been a dream? She had kissed him – twice – that definitely sounded more like a dream than reality. Had that truly happened? And more importantly, had he only dreamed that Anne was okay?

His vision cleared a little more, and to his astonishment, his entire family was sitting around him. Sam was clutching his arm, his mother sat before him with a glass of water in her hand. Eliza was behind her, and his father stood above him. They were the last people he expected to wake up to.

“Anne?” he croaked. Maybe, somehow, they knew if she was safe. He hoped seeing her hadn’t been a dream. He looked from one stunned face to the next.

“She’s gone.” That was his father’s deep voice.

Phillip froze. “What?” he gasped. His father looked at him as if he hadn’t heard. “She’s gone,” he repeated, almost casually.

Phillip felt his heart stop – actually felt as if the blood stopped flowing through his body. His lungs wouldn’t expand. So it had only been a dream – of course it had been – in what world would Anne come here and kiss him and fall asleep on his chest? He was a fool. No, Anne was gone. She was gone. He hadn’t gotten her out. He had failed. Had the smoke suffocated her? Or had she burned to death?

Phillip suddenly needed to vomit and he rolled to his side, retching, sending his mother jumping off the bed and splashing water everywhere, but his stomach was empty.

“Phillip, are you in pain?” Mother said, and Phillip could only nod, eyes squeezed shut. He needed to breathe, he needed to sob, but he couldn’t do that in front of his family. But he didn’t think he could hold his sobs in, and he felt himself shaking.

“Father, help him,” cried Sam.

“Doctor, let’s get a Doctor over here,” Father said.

She had died in pain. In terrible pain. Oh god, what was W.D. going to do? What was _he_ going to do? Phillip couldn’t imagine his life without Anne, getting to look forward to seeing her each morning, hearing her laugh, seeing her smile. And forget about his life, her life was _over_. It was gone. She was never going to fly again. What would the circus be without her? But there was no circus anymore, Anne had said that. But that wasn’t even real. Philip was so confused, and he just wanted to be asleep again, and he wanted Anne back and finally the sobs left his body.

“Phillip?” Mother sounded scared.

“Anne,” Philip managed to get out. “I need her.” Mother looked disgusted.

“Well, she’s not coming back,” Father scoffed from somewhere behind him. Phillip felt his blood boil. How could he be so callous? Didn’t he think Phillip knew that?

He met eyes with Eliza, who was looking at him in fear, biting her lower lip, and kept glancing away to the door.

“Did they at least find her?” he managed to get out, although he was sure he hadn’t breathed since his father first spoke. He didn’t want to know what state her body would be in – but he did.

Eliza’s eyes widened – Oh no, what did that mean – and she cried, “Oh my god! Phillip, she’s not _dead._ She just isn’t here anymore – she went home.”

Phillip gasped, and then he was coughing – so hard his lungs were rattling in his chest and his throat was searing and the whole bed shook.

“She’s alive – I promise you. She’s alive. Alive and fine – healthy. I promise,” Eliza was saying.

Thank god. Thank the Lord. She was alive. So it hadn’t been a dream, it was real, he had really woken up and she had been here, it was real. Phillip felt relief washing over his body.

“Foolish boy,” his father growled from behind him.

Finally Phillip was finished coughing, and he rolled onto his back. He was so relieved he could start singing. Nothing could upset him, nothing his parents could say. He would get to see Anne again. He remembered sending her home, and she must have gone after he fell asleep, just like she said. But he would see her again because she was alive.

“What are you doing here?” It occurred to Philip to ask his family. He hadn’t seen any of them in ages.

“We came because we heard you needed us,” Mother said, which was a strange way of phrasing it. Phillip had learned that, despite what they had all believed, including him, he did not need them to survive. Still, it was nice to see them here. He had sorely missed Eliza and Sam, and if Mother and Father were willing to be seen at the bedside of a circus freak, perhaps they had come around.

“I…am happy you’re here,” Phillip said awkwardly, but awkwardness between himself and his parents was nothing new. “The doctor just said I needed to rest.” Phillip turned to his little brother. “Hey Sam,” he said, smiling genuinely.

Sam had tears streaming down his face, and his grip on Phillip’s arm was falcon-like. He let go with one hand so he could wipe his eyes on is sleeve, his face shining as he smiled back. Phillip had missed him.

“Hey, don’t worry, I’m alright,” Phillip said, hoping he didn’t look too beat up and grisly. “I’ll be up and about before you know it.”

“And then you’re coming home?” Sam said hopefully. Phillip frowned. Where had he gotten that idea? Out of the corner of his eye, Phillip saw Eliza bite her lip. Mother and Father both looked stony faced.

“Well, Sam, I can still visit like before – but I haven’t lived at home in years, you know that.”

“You stopped coming to visit,” Sam reminded him, hurt in his voice. This worry was turning him back into a little boy.

Phillip gulped. He had hoped Eliza might have explained to Sam that their parents were not letting him in, but he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that she didn’t want to turn Sam against them. And it was true that the circus kept him too busy to visit often.

“Well,” Phillip said slowly. “I certainly want to visit you – “

“Of course he will come home,” Father said, looking at Sam, not Phillip. “As soon as the doctor says it’s safe, we’re taking him home.”

Phillip looked at his father for the first time in months.

“No, Father, when I’m better I’ll be returning to my apartment.”

But Father shook his head. He looked at the headboard just above Phillip’s bed.

“Enough is enough, Phillip. Your circus is gone. We passed it on the way here, it’s nothing but rubble. “At this, Phillip felt a punch in his stomach. He did remember Anne saying the circus was gone, but he couldn’t imagine it as rubble. “So that little adventure is over now.”

Phillip licked his lips. “Father, I’m not a part of your world anymore.” He looked over at Eliza, who was giving him a pleading look. She knew better than any of them how much he loved working at Barnum’s circus, but she still wanted him to come back. To real life, she would say, or what they thought of as real life, but what to him felt as fake and scripted as one of his plays. He felt that way even before he learned what _real_ real life was at the circus. Still, he did miss getting to catch Eliza’s eye across a crowded ballroom at some function and roll his eyes. And now that he thought of it, he had to admit, he missed good expensive whiskey, and getting to talk and laugh with the few friends he had at the expense of the rest of their social circle. The circus loved him, he had no doubt at all about that, but they never let him forget that he was not one of them. Still, _the Circus._

He looked at Sam, who was still clutching his arm and glaring at the blankets. “Sam, listen ,you have to understand: I am so happy now. And I wasn’t before I left – and that was nothing to do with you or – or anyone here –“ That was not strictly true, and they all knew it, but he was saying this for Sam’s benefit. “But you wouldn’t want me to come home and be unhappy, would you?”

Slowly, Sam shook his head. “But you never _acted_ unhappy,” Sam complained.

Phillip couldn’t help but snort and he glanced to Eliza, who gave him a sad smile. Sam didn’t realise that drinking and brooding and making snide remarks were signs of unhappiness.

“Sam, I love working at the circus, and I’m going to keep on doing it.”

“I thought you liked writing your plays,” Mother said, sounding offended. She always bragged the loudest about having a famous playwright for a son – his father would have preferred Phillip go into business exactly like him.

“Not those plays – anything marketable has to be boring and moralistic. What I love is magic, so – ”

“Well, you can’t, boy, can’t you hear us? There is no more circus,” Father told his headboard.

“Mr. Barnum will rebuild, I’m sure,” Phillip said, and as he said it, he realized it was true and felt a weight lift from his chest. “Nothing has stopped him yet.”

Father humphed. “He’s suffered quite a loss. There’s no way. There’s nothing left for you in that world.”

Phillip was about to muse on how wrong he was, when he noticed his whole family giving each other looks, as if they were _all_ aware of how wrong Father was. What was _that_ about? Before Phillip could think of a retort, Sam spoke.

“It’s because of that black lady, isn’t it?” Sam said, anger in his voice. He pulled his arms away from Phillip’s. “That lady who was sleeping on you when we got here.” His voice was hard, sounding older than Phillip had ever heard it.

Oh no. Phillip’s stomach twisted into knots. He had so hoped Anne had left before his family arrived. But it seemed Anne sleeping on him hadn’t been a dream either; his heart would have soared with joy, but for his worry about Anne. “So you saw Anne?” There was no way this was good. “Did you talk to her?”

It was like he had broken a dam, and months of his parents’ hatred and resentment came rushing over him.

“Oh, we saw her, boy, saw her lying all over you like some sort of loose –“ that was Father.

“How could you, Phillip, how could you dream of risking your life for the help –“ Mother was saying, wringing her hands.

“You’ve seen the last of her, boy, make no mistake about that –“

“You have so much potential in this world, Phillip, my darling, you could have any girl in New York, you’re wasting yourself –“

Phillip could hardly listen to their poison; he was too worried about Anne. His stomach was tangled. What had they said to her, when they found her sleeping on him? If they could spew such hatred at him, would they have held anything back from her? They would have been condescending, insulting, and racist. Phillip needed to check if she was okay. Poor Anne. _Poor Anne._ He should have protected her. Had they scared her into thinking it was too hard for them to be together once again?

His parents were still going, barely taking breaths between racist tirades. Phillip looked to Eliza for help. She had her head in her hands in exasperation.

“What you see in her, I don’t know,” Mother said.

“You love her more than me.” Phillip’s head snapped up. That was Sam, his voice petulant and angry. He was glaring at the blankets, shoulders tensed, but Phillip could see right through him to the gentle boy who was as caring and playful as Caroline and Helen. If only Father would allow him to stay that way.

“No I don’t, Sam,” Phillip said firmly, reaching for his brother’s hand, but Sam pulled it away. “I do not love her more than you. But I do love her.” The words were out of Phillip’s mouth before he realized he had said them, and for a moment, he didn’t think anything of them, they seemed like the most natural words in the world. Then it hit him, as if Tom’s horse had run him over. He was in love with Anne. He loved her. The thought brought a smile to his lips. How obvious, of course he loved her, he had loved Anne for months. He couldn’t wait to tell her.

His family didn’t leave him to his reverie. Mother and Father both scoffed, turning away from him, as if in disgust.

“So you think you’re in love now?” Father snorted.

Phillip ignored him. Sam still wasn’t looking at him, so he turned to Eliza. She was staring back at him, eyes wide, one hand covering her mouth. He gave her one of their looks, his ‘Can you blame me?’ look, usually reserved for when she scolded him about his drinking, or was embarrassed by a snide comment he made to a high-society member. He saw her put significant effort into unfreezing herself and gave him a genuine smile. He could see the worry in her face, but her smile was real.

“I know I am in love, Father,” Phillip said. “And when she returns, I expect you to show Anne the respect a lady deserves.”

“She is no lady,” Mother said. She was fanning herself with her hand as if this was much too much excitement and she was going to keel over at any moment.

“No, you’re right Mother, she’s not. Because she’s not a stuck-up snob who makes herself feel better by making up rules that place her above others. She’s kind and proud, and brave and hardworking. Nothing like a lady.” Father rolled his eyes, and Mother looked like she was trying incredibly hard to faint, and thereby change the subject. “No offense, Eliza. You’re a lady too,” Phillip added with a wink, and she gave him a wink back. Eliza would be alright.

“I hate her,” Sam said, and Phillip’s heart sank.

“Oh Sam, don’t say that, she’s important to me,” Phillip said.

“I don’t care. Nothing’s even changed? You’re going to be gone again?” Sam said, sounding bitter than a kid his age should.

 “I’ll try, I’ll try and visit more often.” Father wasn’t meeting his eye, so he glanced at Mother, daring her to try not letting him in again. “And who knows, I may have more time, for the next little while, while the circus figures out what to do…” He trailed off, depressing himself again. Sam really couldn’t understand how much it felt like his home had been destroyed. “But Sam, I’m not giving up how happy I am.” Sam was still refusing to look at him, still not letting Phillip touch him, and it broke Phillip’s heart. He could see the tears drying on Sam’s face.

“I hope you realise she is only interested in you for your money,” Father said.

“What money, Father? My inheritance is Sam’s now.” As soon as the words were out of Phillip’s mouth he regretted them. He wasn’t trying to make Sam feel like his brother resented him, especially if he was already feeling unloved.

“You know your plays have made you more money than she could ever hope to make in a lifetime,” Father said. Phillip’s stomach clenched guiltily because he knew it was technically true.

Phillip chose to ignore this comment. He wasn’t good at fighting with his father; in fact, he never did. He had only ever challenged his father once. He had always made snide comments when he disagreed with Father, or rolled his eyes, but even when Father was unjust or cruel, Phillip kept silent. Before, if Father had said something racist at a function, Phillip might laugh in his face and walk away; when he was cruel to a servant, he would slip them some extra money or check on them later; he would openly flaunt his father’s wishes, but he never challenged him to his face. Ever. The night at the theatre with Anne was the first time he had ever fought back – he hadn’t even thought about it, he just knew he was furious at their treatment of Anne and that he was not going to let her down again.

This was probably why Father had taken away his inheritance – he was just as shocked as Phillip was about that night.

Eliza spoke up. “I know how to reach her, when you want to see her again.”

“Eliza!” Mother cried, as if simply keeping Anne out of his sight was all it would take to keep her out of his mind. Phillip’s heart soared. He wanted to see her again now – but he knew he needed to let her rest. Eliza let out a little chuckle and a smile when his face lit up.

 “I don’t want her coming back here,” Father declared, as if anyone cared what he thought.

“Thank goodness it’s not up to you, Father,” Phillip said.

Phillip saw the vein popping in Father’s forehead. Things were about to get ugly. Phillip himself felt exhaustion seeping into every bone in his body at the thought of continuing this endless fight. His throat was starting to burn and he felt more and more breathless. He just wanted to go back to sleep.

Luckily, it was Nurse Redfern to the rescue. She must have seen him looking sick to his stomach. She came by his bedside to ask him questions about how he was feeling and to give him water. Then she turned to Mother.

“It is my recommendation that Mr. Carlyle get as much rest as possible.”

“Of course, my darling needs sleep,” Mother screeched, now that they had an audience again. She sat there staring at him as if he could drop off peacefully under their gaze. She tried to rub his forehead but he rolled his head away.

“I won’t be able to sleep with you staring at me,” he said. He couldn’t help that he would rather be alone than surrounded by Mother and Father.

Mother’s face fell, but she stood reluctantly. “Of course, we must leave you to rest,” she said slowly, and the others stood as well.

“Kiss your brother goodbye, Sam,” Mother instructed. It was a common refrain from her, since being seen as a happy family was of paramount importance, but Sam didn’t.

Eliza reached out and gave Phillip’s hand a warm, encouraging squeeze. “Rest,” she whispered.

“Thanks,” Phillip said. “And…will you just let Anne know that – when she’s rested, of course, that I’m…” he trailed off. He didn’t care that his parents were still listening, that they hated this, even that he was risking hurting Anne, he just wanted to see her again.

“Of course,” Eliza said, putting on her best, high-society smile. Phillip smiled back with relief, and then her smile turned genuine.

As they were all walking away, Phillip felt a pang. How long had it been since they were all in one room together? And how long would it be again? “But do…come back, once I’ve rested,” Phillip said before he could think better of it. He spoke mostly to Eliza and Sam, but it was Father who stopped, turned, and spoke.

“Don’t worry, son, we will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to Anne's perspective next chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne learns about Charity returning to her parents' house, and it makes her question her future with Phillip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy!

Anne left the hospital and wandered the steets of New York in a daze. The day was too bright, the light hurt her eyes. The whole city was bustling around her, and she was genuinely surprised to find people out enjoying themselves, living their lives, when she had expected the world to end when the circus did. 

She finally realized her feet were taking her towards the circus and she stopped in the middle of the street, causing a woman behind her to bump into her and curse as she scuttled around her. No one would be at the circus, she realized, because there was no circus. She wondered momentarily if she should go back to one of her and W.D.’s old haunts, before the circus, in case he was waiting for her there, but that was down by the docks, so far away…all she wanted was to collapse into her bed right now, curl up in a ball and sleep for a thousand years. She wanted to stop being hungry. But her bed and almost everything she owned was gone. 

Anne decided she might as well check in at the bar. The bartender often joked that the circus lived there; at the very least someone might have left a message for her there. So she plodded on. 

Too late, Anne realized her route would take her past the circus anyway, and suddenly she was upon it. Or where it once was. The circus was now a twisted mass of iron and mountains of bricks, some of it still smoldering. Anne stood amidst a sea of swirling passersby, staring at her home. She heard the sorrowful remarks they made as they passed, and some stopped and stared. Most of them had probably been to see them perform.

No one recognized Anne though. She probably looked as if she had just crawled out of the rubble; her clothes still covered in soot and her hair a mess and falling in her face. Another job over with, just like all the others. Only this time, she had a whole family to get through it with, not just a brother. Her mind was too numb to process many thoughts on what she was seeing, so she carried on.

When Anne entered the bar, she was met with a strange sight. The bodies of her fellow circus performers were strewn all over the place: on the floor, on the counter itself, sagging half out of chairs. Snores and occasional hiccups filled the air, and the whole place stank of alcohol.

The bartender was behind the bar drying glasses, and he gave her an amused shrug when she met his eye in surprise. What on earth had this lot been up to? What exactly did they have to celebrate? Or had they been drinking away their sorrows?

The bartender gave W.D. a nudge; he was asleep with his head on the bar – the first time Anne had ever seen that – but he leapt off the stool when the bartender nodded in Anne’s direction. He knocked Lettie at he did so, and she woke with a yell. 

“Annie,” W.D. said, rushing towards her, dancing over the sleeping forms of their friends. Lettie slid off her stool and shook awake Tom, who was slumped against the beer dispensers. “You look exhausted. Come here. How is he?”

Seeing W.D., who always meant security, and comfort and home, was too much for Anne. She collapsed against his chest almost before he reached her and found she was crying from the weight of her exhaustion. He was surrounded by his family, who would unleash who knew what sort of torments on him. His family, who were going to do everything in her power to keep her away from him, especially now, after she had humiliated herself in front of them. Her shoulders shook silently with her sobs, and she was soaking W.D.’s shirt. She wanted to turn back into the little girl he loved to protect.

“Oh, Annie,” W.D. said, his voice breaking. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, keeping her safe, and leant his check against her hair. “It’ll be okay. I mean, of course it won’t, but…I’ll make it okay.” His voice sounded so sad, more than she expected it to be – no one had insulted him.

“Poor boy.” That was Lettie’s voice, also sounding heartbroken. “Poor, foolish boy. You were worth it, love, to him,” she said, coming up to them.

Oops. What can she have been thinking, coming in here and bursting into tears when they were waiting for news of Phillip?

“Oh, no, don’t worry, Phillip’s okay,” Anne said, trying to quiet her sobs. “He’s going to be okay: he woke up for a few minutes. All he needs now is rest.” Anne wiped her face on her sleeve. 

W.D., Lettie and Tom’s faces transformed brightly. Lettie and Tom started laughing and hugged. W.D. grinned and squeezed Anne tighter.

“I knew that idiot would pull through,” Tom declared.

“Then why are you crying?” W.D. asked. 

“Poor thing, look at her, she’s exhausted,” Lettie said, pulling out an unoccupied chair, which W.D. lead her over to. 

Anne nodded. “It’s not just that,” she said as she sank into the chair, still trying to stifle her sniffles. “Phillip was alright once he woke, and he was happy –“

“I’ll bet he was, to see you,” Tom said cheekily. Lettie whacked his shoulder. To Anne’s surprise, W.D., who had pulled a chair close so he could keep his arm around her, only chuckled and squeezed her tighter. She supposed they all had more important things to worry about than her and Phillip at   
the moment. 

“But then…you know how Mr. Barnum wrote to Phillip’s family?” Anne said. “Well, they showed up.” All of their faces showed the surprise she had felt.

“And?” Lettie said. 

Anne bit back her tears. “They were less happy to see me.”

W.D. had stiffened, his arm around her tightened protectively. “What did they say?” he growled. 

Suddenly the bartender appeared in front of her, bearing a steaming plate of bacon and eggs – apparently it was still quite early, although Anne had   
lost all sense of time – and a pot of coffee for all of them. The rest of the seats at the table were taken by their passed-out companions, so Lettie and 

Tom crowded around as Anne scarfed down her meal and told them everything that had happened between bites. 

She could feel W.D. getting angrier and angrier as her tale went on. Lettie stood anxiously picking at her beard, even Tom couldn’t lighten the mood with a joke. 

“They said what about you?” W.D. roared when she got to the part where Phillip’s mother accused her of being intimate with Phillip.

Anne was too tired to respond. She didn’t feel like worrying about what W.D. would think of her kissing Phillip, didn’t have the energy to argue with him over whether Phillip’s family was reason enough not to be with him. 

“You shouldn’t have to put up with that.”

“Never mind that now,” Lettie said. “They can’t do much damage while he’s asleep. And you do need rest.” She yawned. “And so do I. Barnum’s found us boarding houses down at the docks.”

“What on earth happened here?” Anne remembered to ask.

Tom blew air out through his lips. W.D. ran his hand through his hair. Anne frowned. What was wrong?

“That’s a story,” Lettie said. “Which reminds me: Mrs. Barnum will want to know that Phillip’s alright. The night of the fire, she said to send word the minute we heard he was okay. When he has the energy – and if he doesn’t look too scary – she wants to take the girls to see him.”

Anne nodded. 

“Does anyone know the address of her parents’ house?” W.D. asked.

“What?” gasped Anne. What had happened?

They told her everything on the walk down to the boarding houses. The meal had fortified Anne enough to make the trek. They told her about the Barnums’ getting evicted and Jenny Lind’s tour cancelling, and Mrs. Barnum taking the girls back to her parents. Mr. Barnum had of course gone after them, but the news frightened Anne. Not just because the loss of the revenue from the tour might spell the end of the circus. Mrs. Barnum going home really scared her. The others must have taken her silence for exhaustion because they didn’t say anything.

At the door of the ramshackle boarding house – wedged between two greyish warehouses in the dusty, noisy street near the docks, with its door nearly falling off it’s hinges – W.D. gave Anne another tight embrace.

“The landlady doesn’t let any men on the premises,” he explained. “But we’re staying just down there, Lettie knows where. Get some sleep.” He hugged her tightly, rubbed her back and kissed her hair, and it made Anne feel slightly better. She waved to Tom as Lettie led her inside. 

In a daze she followed Lettie up the narrow flight of stairs and into a room they were sharing with some other women: there were four lumpy beds shoved into the room, and Anne collapsed into the nearest one. She was vaguely aware of Lettie taking off her shoes and undoing the ties of her dress and then she was out. 

***   
When Anne woke, the sun streaming in through the grimy curtains was bright and yellow from the smog of the docks and the afternoon sun. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. She was in only her underdress. Lettie must have washed her dress, because it was drying on the back of the tiny room’s door. 

Two of the room’s other beds were empty, but Patsey and Queenie were snuggled fast asleep into one, despite there being a separate bed for each of them. Anne supposed they needed the extra comfort. And despite the hour, they might as well sleep; they were all unemployed. 

The door opened and Lettie appeared, bearing a tray of soup and bread. 

“Ah, perfect timing,” she said when she saw Anne sitting up. “Here, eat up.” Anne gladly dug in. 

“How long was I asleep?” 

“About five hours,” Lettie said with a chuckle. “W.D. said to let you sleep as long as you could, but a couple of hours ago Carlyle’s sister, of all people, left a message for you at the bar that Phillip wants to see you.”

Anne nearly choked on her bread. So Miss Carlyle truly meant it. She wanted to inhale her food so she could run back to Phillip’s side, but then she remembered the conversation they had had just before she fell asleep, and the bread turned to sawdust in her mouth.

Lettie must have noticed something was up. “What’s wrong, love?” she said. “She and her parents have left Phillip to rest, so you won’t have to face them.”

“That’s good,” Anne said slowly, ripping her bread into little pieces. She was glad she wouldn’t have to see them, but that wasn’t what was bothering her.

Lettie frowned. “Do you not want to see him, Anne? We all thought, when you insisted on sitting with him, we all thought you might finally want to give him a chance. But if you don’t,” Lettie came up and put her hand on Anne’s shoulder, “that’s alright.”

“No, I do,” Anne said. “So badly.” She smiled as she said it, and Lettie broke into a cheeky grin. Anne had said nothing of their kisses in front of W.D., but she told Lettie now and Lettie squealed. In the corner, Patsey stirred and rolled over onto Queenie.

“So what’s wrong?” Lettie asked. 

“Well, Phillip likes me now,” Anne started, avoiding Lettie’s eye. 

“Don’t doubt that boy, Anne. You sound like your brother.” 

“But, what if, in the future, his family convinces him to leave us? I mean, if someone as strong and openminded as Mrs. Barnum can go back to her old   
life, whose to say Phillip won’t –“

Lettie sat on the bed in a rush, the mattress jostled and emitted a cloud of dust. “Oh, honey, she doesn’t have much of a choice, we told you about the eviction. She’s a mother, she can’t always do what she wants; she has to make sure her babies have a roof over their heads. Wouldn’t you go crawling to anyone to keep your babies warm?” Lettie said, pulling her into a hug. Anne leant into the warm embrace. She supposed that was true. “I know you think Barnum was getting a little big for his britches: now he’s managed to lose everything he had, we’ll be paying for these rooms ourselves. She’s worried about the girls’ future, that’s all. I’m sure Barnum’s already told her he won’t lose sight of that again, and everything’s alright now.” Anne nodded. They both took a moment to mourn any possibility of Barnum rebuilding the circus. “Besides, you haven’t seen the papers, have you?” Lettie finished wryly.

“No, why?”

Lettie shook her head. “It’s not important. It’s nothing Phillip will have to worry about, since these last few months have proved you only have eyes for him.”

Anne felt her face heat up. So had the entire circus been talking about them? But Lettie’s explanation had relaxed her. Phillip cared for her, and she better get used to it because she doubted in her heart that was going to change any time soon. 

“Come on, eat up. And then, I’m sorry, but you need to bathe. Hurry up, you’ve kept that boy waiting long enough already. W.D., Tom, and I are coming with you. We don’t want to overwhelm him with too many of us at once.”

“Okay,” Anne said, scarfing down the last of her soup-soaked bread. “But, Lettie…” she hesitated, feeling that what she was about to say was entirely foolish. “Can you help me look nice?”

***

Anne was grateful Lettie had washed her clothes for her, as the dress was now the only one – in fact, the only thing – she owned. She admired herself in the cracked mirror in the boarding house’s front hall. Her now-clean curls hung down her back the way Lettie insisted Phillip always admired most, and since they didn’t have any powder, Lettie had pinched her cheeks until they had a bit more colour. Anne felt the butterflies that always appeared when she thought of seeing Phillip come back, but in a good way. A very good way. There was no reason to ignore them anymore.

The walk back up to the hospital was long, but Anne found herself skipping ahead of W.D., Tom and Lettie, although they were all rushing in their eagerness to see Phillip, even W.D.

Anne got nervous when they actually got to the steps of the hospital. That doctor would probably follow Mr. Carlyle’s orders not to let her back in – and especially not with three circus freaks in tow. Anne hung back to grasp W.D.’s hand. He gave her a squeeze of encouragement. 

“I’m just a bit scared,” Anne said, when the others waited for her to proceed. They had heard all about the doctor who was so eager to do Mr. Carlyle’s bidding. 

“There’s no way this is as scary as running into an inferno, so I think you can manage it for him,” W.D. said, knocking her in the shoulder. He was right, of course, so Anne threw back her head and marched through the doors.

As it happened, Nurse Redfern was treating the first patient in the ward. She looked up and grinned when she saw Anne. “Oh good, he’s awake, and bored out of his mind, I imagine. Don’t worry, Dr. Blake has gone home.”

Anne thanked her, and lead the others to Phillip’s bedside. He was looking more alert than last she saw him and was staring idly up at the ceiling. 

When he saw them he tried to sit up, a huge smile growing on his face. Anne felt her own smile match his: she smiled so wide she bit her lip to hide it in embarrassment. She practically skipped down the ward, and reached Phillip before she had decided whether to kiss him in front of her brother and their friends. Weren’t couples supposed to kiss each other when they reunited? Were they a couple?

Phillip was reaching for her and he grasped her hands in his, squeezing tightly as she sunk into her old place on the bed. 

“Hey,” he said softly.

“Hey,” Anne said. “Feeling better?”

“Much,” Phillip said, with only the slightest of coughs. “Especially now that you’re back.”

“Oh,” Anne groaned and scrunched up her face at the corniness of his statement, and they both laughed. His laughter was concerningly raspy, but just as much like sunshine as it had always been. It made Anne feel jittery. She couldn’t help it: almost without thinking, with their hands still clasped in his lap, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

It was only for a moment, and it was definitely their chastest kiss yet, but Anne still felt flustered and embarrassed. Their friends had given her a moment with Philip, but they had nearly reached his bed now. Still, it was worth it to see the pure happiness on Phillip’s face. 

That was, until he spotted W.D., and froze. Anne turned around to nervously surveille their friends. Lettie had her hands pressed to her mouth, hiding a smile. Tom launched himself onto the end of Phillip’s bed, making the mattress bounce. “Point me to the nearest fire, if that’s the treatment I can look forward to.”

Phillip tried to chuckle, but he was looking apprehensively at W.D.. W.D. had his hands shoved into his pockets and was looking away awkwardly. But now he approached the bed and held out his hand to Phillip.

“Thank you,” W.D. said, giving Phillip a hearty shake, clasping Phillip’s bandaged hand in both of his own. He was even more serious than normal. “I can’t…just, thank you for what you did.”

Phillip nodded and let out a breath. Anne felt his relief.

“So, you’re not going to kick Phillip’s butt, W.D.?” Lettie asked. She came and ruffled Phillip’s hair as a greeting, before seating herself next to Anne. 

“I won’t kick a man while he’s down,” W.D. said. Could her brother actually be joking around? And in front of other people? Anne could get used to   
this. “Besides, it’ll be nice not being the only one taking care of Anne.”

Anne watched a look pass between Phillip and her brother: Phillip raised his eyebrows and W.D. gave the slightest of nods. Phillip bit his lip, trying to hide a smile. Anne herself wanted to laugh at seeing W.D.’s change of heart. He was so often right, she felt so much more secure knowing he was on their side. Phillip looked to Tom and Lettie, who were professing how worried they had been, but his hand gave hers an elated squeeze. Who cared about his family, it was W.D.’s approval he had been hoping for, and the realization gave Anne shivers. 

“So, we still haven’t managed to get rid of you, eh?” Tom joked, and they all laughed. Anne enjoyed talking with her new family as they filled Phillip in on the Barnum’s predicament, and speculated on what would happen to the protesters who had attacked them.

But then Nurse Redfern appeared. She checked Phillip’s temperature, then said: “Sorry, Mr. Carlyle, but you have more visitors, and you can only have so many guests at a time.” She sounded extremely apologetic. 

“We told the others to wait,” Lettie started, but she was facing the door, and she stopped. She raised her hands to her face as if in surprise, but in such a way that she covered her beard, something Anne hadn’t seen her do since the first week of the circus. W.D. had also got off the bed and stepped away from Phillip. 

Anne looked down at Phillip. He was looking beyond her, licking his lips nervously. Then he met her eyes, an apology written all over his face. 

Anne turned around. Standing in the entrance to the ward, looking every bit as apprehensive as they all did, were Miss Eliza and Master Sam Carlyle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm about to leave on vacation for a little while, so I won't be able to update till the beginning of April, but when I get back I most certainly will!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phillip's siblings show up at the hospital, and they are not as welcoming to Anne as Phillip would like

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Sorry for the long wait, this is a bit of a longer (and kind of more angsty) chapter to make up for it!

Well, he had asked them to come back. This was his own fault. Phillip sat farther up on his pillows to try and see past Eliza and Sam, hoping against hope that his parents hadn’t decided to return while Anne and his friends were here. He never wanted to inflict them on her again: he hadn’t gotten a chance to hear what they had said to her, but it couldn’t have been good. At least she was back, here by his side. But if he was being honest with himself, he especially didn’t want them to come while W.D. was here. If he witnessed the horrible way they treated her … he had just got W.D.’s blessing and he couldn’t believe it. He was overjoyed. But W.D. would be devastated to hear his little sister treated the way his parents treated Anne. Phillip had worked so hard at accepting Anne’s decision not to be with him, and he would again if his parents turned up and changed her mind, but he desperately hoped he wouldn’t need to. The moments with her since he woke up had been so wonderful as to feel like a dream (and not only literally).

              Thankfully, there was no sign of his parents, only his siblings. Still, he had not seen them meet Anne; Eliza might not object to her in theory, but her assumptions or offhand comments might still be hurtful to Anne. And Sam… Sam was their father’s son, through and through.

              Phillip propped himself higher up on his pillows – the movement bringing a bubble of coughing up from his chest – in preparation. He rubbed his thumb over the back of Anne’s hand reassuringly. He looked around at all his friends while Eliza and Sam made their way slowly down the ward.

              “I’m sorry, guys,” he said, truly meaning it. “I did ask them to come back, but I didn’t realize they would come so soon – on that they would come at all. I’m sorry that you came all the way up here.” As the words were coming out of his mouth, he realized he’d made the assumption that with only a few guests allowed, his friends would leave to make room for his rich, important family. Would he never stop making these mistakes?

              “We’ll play nice if they do,” Tom said, a bit more ominously than Phillip would have preferred.

              He looked up and made eye contact with Eliza. She gave him a weak smile and he managed to return it, feeling apprehensive and awkward, which was not like him and Eliza.

              Sam still refused to look at him. He was surveilling the circus performers warily. When Lettie took her hands down from her face and thrust back her shoulders proudly, he flinched and leaned behind Eliza, slowly his feet, but Eliza dragged him forward.

              “Glad to see you looking better,” Eliza said when she was near enough. “Did you manage to sleep?”

              “A little bit,” Phillip said. W.D. was the only one who moved for his siblings: he got up and found a nearby chair to offer Eliza. He kept his distance and avoided her gaze: Phillip’s stomach knotted in shame watching how careful he had to be. To his relief, Eliza, though she said nothing, gave a polite nod and smile of thanks.

Anne was looking down at their clasped hands, sitting very stiffly. She was nervous, and his heart ached seeing it: her downcast eyes, her unnaturally straight back, her clenched jaw. He wanted to wash all the anxiety away. Then he remembered that he could; should, in fact.

              He reached out and rubbed Anne’s shoulder, trying to get her attention. She looked up at him, her face showing how nervously she was as plainly as if she had said it out loud. He gave her a reassuring smile and a nod, saying he was on her side, that he would make sure she was alright. She understood; she let out a breath and grasped his hands tighter, tossed her head in that way she had when she was psyching herself up. She turned and smiled at Eliza, and to Phillip’s relief, Eliza smiled back.

              “Mother and Father aren’t with you?” Phillip double checked.

              “I managed to hold them off for now,” Eliza said. She had sat herself in the chair offered by W.D. and Sam stood next to her. He kept his eyes on Lettie and Tom as if they would spring and attack the moment his back was turned. Eliza sat awkwardly for a moment. No one said anything else. Phillip opened his mouth, but Eliza beat him to it.

              “How are you, Miss?” she asked Anne. “Did you get a chance to rest?”

              Anne nodded. “Yes, I did, thank you, Miss Carlyle.”

              It wasn’t much but it broke the tension. Phillip saw W.D.’s shoulders relax at the bare minimum of respect Anne was getting.

              Nurse Redfern was flitting around again, making herself busy at Phillip’s bed stand, watching their group nervously. “I’m sorry, Mr. Carlyle, but only 5 guests,” she said apologetically.

              “Come on, guys,” W.D. said, gesturing to Lettie and Tom. Neither of them wanted to move; they shifted uncomfortably and looked at Phillip.

              Phillip didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want anyone to leave, but he definitely didn’t want them here together. They represented two very different halves of his lives: his old and his new, his past and his future, and every other time the two worlds had crossed it had ended very badly.

              Eliza seemed to realize how she was imposing on his friends and hopped up again. “Oh no, I’m sorry, we’re interrupting. Sam and I will come back later,” she said.

              “We don’t mind. Family comes first,” W.D. said, but he was giving Phillip one of his old looks.

              “That’s not always true,” Phillip said firmly, determined not to make any more mistakes when it came to his circus family. No more was he going to hurt them by keeping his mouth shut. “Besides, you’re family too.” He turned to Nurse Redfern. “We’re only 6.”

              “Dr. Green is in, and he’s quite strict. It’s disturbing to the other patients.”

              “We understand,” W.D. said.

              “Well, I’m not going anywhere,” Anne announced. Phillip’s stomach did a happy flip: he couldn’t bear for her to leave again either: not with everything so new between them, not when he was finally able to hold her hands, and kiss her, and he had so much lost time to make up for.

The fact that she was so committed to being with him too emboldened him and he said “No, thank god,” and sat up properly – with difficulty, and some more painful coughing – so he could plant a kiss on her cheek. Anne turned slightly pink, but her face broke out in the biggest grin.

              Sam’s reaction was less sweet. He kicked the leg of the chair Eliza had vacated and turned to storm away. “Of course _they_ get to stay. I told you he wouldn’t want to see us. He doesn’t care about us.”

              Everyone froze. Phillip’s heart sank. Hearing that made him sick to his stomach. He couldn’t let Sam walk away.

              Anne had taken a sharp breath: she looked up at W.D.. He still had his arms crossed, looking serious, as always.

              “Wait, Sam, I do want you to stay,” Phillip said. But he still had no way to solve this. And now a mustachioed, mean-looking doctor was heading over to them.

              It was W.D. to the rescue, of all people. “Come on, Lettie, Tom,” he said sharply, already walking away. “Mr. Barnum may need us. Besides, the others will want to hear about Carlyle.” Lettie gave Phillip’s knee a loving pat and a smile and she stood too: she understood. Tom slid reluctantly off the bed.

              “We’ll report back to everyone,” Lettie promised. “Mrs. Barnum will probably bring the girls round, so rest up.”

              Phillip chuckled and watched his three friends walk graciously away. This wasn’t a perfect solution either, but there was no way he was sending Sam away.

              “Does _she_ have to stay?” Sam complained. He was glaring at Anne.

              Phillip panicked. He saw a look pass between W.D. and Anne. W.D. seemed to be saying, ‘What did you expect?’ Unfortunately, he could not see Anne’s face, as she was facing her brother.

              “Sam,” Eliza said, clearly mortified.

              But Phillip wasn’t having this. Proving to Anne what she meant to him started now. Anne was giving him another chance and there was absolutely no way he was going to ruin it.

              “Yes, she does,” Phillip said firmly. “I feel a lot better having her around because I …care about her.”

              He couldn’t help but glance towards W.D.. He seemed pleased by this answer. He gave Phillip a begrudging smile – which Phillip couldn’t have been happier to receive – and led the others out of the ward. Anne beamed and blushed at this announcement.

              “Sit down Sam, stay while,” Eliza said sardonically.

              Sam trudged around the bed and sat down on the opposite side of the bed to Anne. Anne still held her head high but she and Eliza –  to Phillip’s delight – were offering each other small, shy smiles. Phillip shifted on the bed, scooting over and gesturing for Anne to sit next to him with her back against the headboard and her feet still on the ground, so she wouldn’t have her back to Eliza. She hesitated for only a moment, then shifted. Phillip enjoyed the feeling of her side pressed up against his, the feeling of her arm touching his through both of their sleeves.

 

              “Aren’t you going to introduce us properly, Phillip?” Eliza asked.

“Of course.” Phillip was still feeling nervous. Automatically he turned to Anne first. “Anne, this is my brother and sister, Samuel and Eliza. Lizzie, Sam, this is Anne Wheeler.” Eliza offered her hand to Anne, who shook it in disbelief, and ‘how-do-you-dos’ were exchanged. But Sam said nothing.

Phillip took one hand out of Anne’s and reached for Sam, who at long last didn’t pull away and let his brother grip his shoulder.

              “I’ve missed you, Sam,” Phillip said.

              “So come home, like Mama and Daddy said.”

              “Sam.”

              “Or just be a playwright again. And come to regular parties. Be normal.”

              “You hate my plays, you say they’re boring,” Phillip pointed out.

              “Daddy says you haven’t got a job anymore anyway,” Sam said. Phillip supposed they’d been filling Sam’s head with these unhelpful hopes since they left this morning.

              Phillip felt Anne steel herself. He saw her take a deep breath. He felt her hands, getting a little sweaty now, grip his tightly for support.

              “Well, I’m afraid you may be right about that,” she said wryly. She looked in Sam’s direction, but didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Your brother might have to pick up the pen again, to support himself,” Anne said to Sam. Extending the olive branch. Her bravery would never cease to astound Phillip.

              “Don’t talk to me,” Sam said, a perfect mixture of disgust and ambivalence in his voice that was so perfectly hurtful.

              Phillip’s jaw dropped. Anne shut her mouth with a snap, and Phillip could see the tears welling up in her eyes. Eliza had gasped and turned bright red.

              “Sam, that was incredibly rude,” Phillip said.

              “I am so sorry, Miss,” Eliza was babbling.

              “It’s fine, it’s fine, he’s a child,” Anne whispered, staring into her lap. Phillip shifted so he could put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed her to his side. He couldn’t even enjoy the fact that he could _hug_ Anne – he couldn’t enjoy the feel of her leaning into him, or the feel of her body relaxing at his affection – all of this was new, and perfect and everything he wanted but he couldn’t enjoy it because this only seemed to make Sam madder.              

              “I expect you to apologize,” Phillip said. Sam said nothing. Phillip had no idea how to discipline him. Sam always behaved the way their parents wanted him too, and Phillip had never had a problem with that before.  

              Eliza, trained from childhood to salvage social situations, changed the subject, though without her usual grace. “Phillip, we never heard what happened that night. What started the fire?”

              Phillip sighed. He hadn’t had to relieve the experience yet.

              “W.D. said it was the protestors,” Anne said.

              “Yeah, it was,” Phillip said. He filled them all in on how the protestors had refused to leave when he had asked politely. Interspersed with small coughing fits, he told them how they had been spoiling for a fight, how they had insulted W.D.. He couldn’t remember who had thrown the first punch, but he remembered Lettie and the others rushing to their rescue. Both Anne and Eliza were shocked by his story. He had never gotten in a proper fight in his life, hadn’t thrown a punch since his boarding school days. He was usually a man of words.

              Nor could he remember if the fire had started by accident, by someone knocking over a lamp or, more ominously, on purpose. All he knew that the fire spread through the trapeze rigging and backstage curtains incredibly fast, and that suddenly he could smell smoke and see people fleeing. Mostly he remembered feeling the heat. Both Anne and Eliza, even Sam, were satisfyingly dramatic listeners to his tale.

              He told of how he and W.D. had started gathering the circus performers up and sending them out, how they had scoured the ground floor and when it was empty how they had run to the freedom of fresh air. How Barnum had appeared out of nowhere; Phillip still wasn’t sure where he had come from or why he was back.

              Then he paused. Eliza looked to Anne. “Let me guess, you noticed Miss Anne here wasn’t amongst you?” Eliza said with a bit of a cheeky smile.

              Phillip smiled and gripped Anne’s knee. “And I noticed Anne wasn’t there. Someone managed to stop W.D. running back in, I suppose, but I escaped. And ran to find her.”

              “Oh Phillip,” Eliza said with a chuckle. “You got it bad.”

              Anne turned bright red as Phillip laughed, overjoyed at how normal and calm Eliza was being. He was sure she wanted him to give up the circus as much as anyone, but she wasn’t showing it, and for that he was grateful. And Anne was making him laugh, for although she was blushing, it didn’t look as though Eliza was making her uncomfortable. He knew her ashamed face all too well; instead she was pressing her thumb against her lips to hide her smile.

              “I absolutely do,” Phillip said, rubbing Anne’s knee and leaning his head against Anne’s. Again Eliza didn’t bat an eye, and it only made Anne’s smile break free, and she actually raised her head to roll her eyes at Eliza. The two of them laughed at Phillip’s lovesickness. Phillip supposed that was better than any alternative.

              “That was so dumb,” Sam spoke up. He seemed much less tickled by this story.

              “I agr –” Anne started, and then she stopped, remembering Sam’s order from earlier. This made Phillip burn with anger: not at Sam of course, but at the fact that Sam already saw the world as Anne had always seen it.

              “Sam has no right to tell you what to do,” Phillip said. “His behaviour is unacceptable,” he said this pointedly to Sam himself.

              Anne met his eye and shook her head, as if to say, ‘he does have the right.’ Phillip leaned into her, showing her he would back her up.

              Anne tried again; she leaned forward, looked at Sam.  “I completely agree, Master Sam, it _was_ stupid,” Anne said. Sam had at least enough shame not to snap at her again, but he just glared and said nothing.

              It was Eliza to the rescue again. “I’ll say. But he got you out safely, thankfully. But wait.” Eliza’s brow furrowed, and Anne tensed. “I thought the building collapsed on top of you? On both of you? Did someone else have to rescue you both?” she turned to Anne. “And thankfully, Miss, you aren’t bedridden. In fact, you look fine.”

              Phillip watched the light retreat from Anne’s eye. He remembered how upset and disturbed she had been earlier and spared her having to repeat her side of the story again.

              “Thank the Lord Anne had already gotten herself out,” Phillip said quietly, cautiously, hoping this would not anger Eliza. “She wasn’t with us, she was around the back of the building, so I had no way of knowing this of course, and she had no way of knowing what I had done. And I’m so grateful she wasn’t in there,” he said very pointedly to Eliza, but wanting Anne to hear this too, so she could let go of her guilt. “Because I couldn’t see or hear anything in the flames. I certainly wouldn’t have gotten her out. If she had still been inside, she would be dead.”

              Eliza’s eyes had widened in shock at this news, but she swallowed her surprise and gave a chuckle. “Then thank goodness you weren’t in there,” she agreed.

              Sam, once again, did not take this news calmly.

              “You mean you ran in there for nothing? You made us all think you were going to die for northing?”

              “Sam.”

              “You won’t shut up coughing, your lungs are ruined.”

              “They’re not ruined, they’re healing.”

              “Father says you’re going to have scars for the rest of your life.”

              “He’s right, but nothing can be done about that,” Phillip said, but then he stopped trying to placate Sam, because he realized Sam wasn’t even looking at him, he was looking at Anne, and he was relishing the effect his words were having on her.

              She was fiddling with the folds of her dress and staring deeply into her lap. She chewed feverishly on her bottom lip and her eyes were glistening. She blamed herself. She had been more upset than anyone that he had gone into the burning building for nothing. But it was not nothing, would nobody understand? He had thought she was in there. Anne’s death was not an option. Whether he lived or not, whether he was blessed enough to be in her presence didn’t matter, what mattered was that she was too wonderful and pure to risk letting die in that fire.

              And now he was really angry at Sam, because even though it was their parents who had taught him to hate Anne, he could see the effect his words were having on her, and there was no excuse for it.

              “Now Sam, stop. It’s not Anne’s fault, she didn’t know what I was going to do.”

              But Phillip saw that Sam had already made up his mind to be mean on purpose.

              “Well, we already all thought you’d gone back in for nothing, because she is nothing.” Sam sat back, looking pleased with himself.

              “Sam,” Phillip snapped.

              “Sam, I’m embarrassed, you’re being childish,” Eliza said.

              “What? You said it too, Lizzie.”

              “I did not,” Eliza scoffed.

              “You did, on the way over here, you said she was nothing compared to Phillip.”

              “I said she was _not enough_ ,” Eliza snapped, and everyone froze.

              Phillip felt a stone fall into the pit of his stomach. He turned slowly to face Eliza; he saw that Anne was doing the same.

              “Lizzie?” he asked.

              Eliza had gone bright red. She couldn’t meet Anne’s eye. Phillip could practically see the gears turning in her head, but he wasn’t sure all her social training could get her out of this one.

              “I – I, well, what I meant was – Oh Phillip come on, you know what I meant!”

              Wow, she managed to make this much worse. Phillip reached for Anne’s hand – she was watching Eliza nervously – and held it tightly. He gave a dry, hard laugh. “I absolutely do not.” He was going to make her say it.

              “I just meant…not enough to risk your life for…but you’re my brother, no one is worth your life to me,” Eliza said quickly.

              “No, that’s not what you meant, you meant cos she’s just – ” and then Sam said something terrible.

              The energy in the room changed. Two passing nurses stopped and stared. Eliza gasped and nearly fell out of her chair. Phillip himself sat up so fast the bed shook, and he had to stop and cough, but he was burning with rage. He wanted to shove the words back into Sam’s mouth. He wished Anne hadn’t heard them.

              “Samuel, how dare you speak to her like that?” Phillip managed to sputter.

              Only Anne hadn’t moved. She sat, still staring at her hands. She had heard much worse, presumably in worse situations: as she walked the streets at night, from drunken men in bars, from protestors. She had heard it from people who were not half her size, but twice her size. This was probably nothing.             

“Where did you ever hear such things?” Eliza said.

              “Oh, you know where he heard it, from Mother and Father, I’m sure.” Phillip snapped, his heart still beating fast, pumping anger through him.

              “It’s okay,” Anne said quietly.

              “It’s not,” Phillip insisted, squeezing her hand.   

              “It is. If I thought someone took my brother from me, I would hate them too,” Anne said. Now it was Sam who looked like he was going to cry. Anne continued. “The man who was here earlier is my brother. I’d be upset too, if my brother walked away from me, and I’d hate anyone whose fault I thought it was.” Anne was looking at Sam now, and he was actually listening. He had started to cry again. “You’re allowed to be angry, Master Sam. I’d be angry.  In fact, I was angry, for a long time. All the same rules that keep you from your brother now, kept me from him before; he’s just fallen out of your world into mine.” Phillip didn’t know what to say to that. They were all quiet for a moment, just listening to Sam sniffle.  “All these rules do is hurt us. And I hate them. But they are there, and we have to live with them.”

              Sam wiped his eyes furiously on his sleeve. “I wish we didn’t.”

              Phillip had had enough of this. He had had enough of watching his brother cry and miss him, and he had enough of his love being insulted. “Well, I’ve said this to Anne before, but I have decided not to live with them. You know what, Sam? Mother and Father have decided that I can’t be a part of their world, but _I_ have decided that they don’t get to decide whether I am a part of yours. I won’t let them stop me seeing you anymore.” Briefly, confusion flashed across Sam’s face. That was new information to him. “Which means you have nothing to worry about. Okay?”

              Sam wiped his nose, getting snot all down his nice sleeve, and nodded.

              “I think you might owe me an apology,” Anne said calmly. Phillip was in awe. He supposed she was finished putting up with nonsense from Carlyle boys.

              Slowly, Sam nodded. “Sorry, Miss,” he muttered. Anne opened her mouth, but Sam continued. “It was mean. I didn’t mean it.”

              “Thank you,” Anne said quietly.

              “So, can you be happy for me now? That I’ve found work I love, and someone I care about?”

              Sam shrugged. “I dunno. It’s still gross.” His eyes widened, embarrassed. “I mean, like kissing and stuff is gross.”

Phillip chuckled, and to his delight, Anne chuckled too.

              “Well, I don’t think it’s gross, I think it’s sweet,” Eliza said, leaning forward to pat Phillip’s knee.

              “You sure about that Liz?” Phillip said. If she had said those things to Sam, he was going to be very angry with her.

              Eliza’s face fell. She glanced and Anne and then down into her lap. “Alright, so maybe I did mean…if you could have decided to give your life up for _anybody,_ I wished it was somebody good. I just wished it was a normal choice. It’s just a good, respectable marriage is all I’ve ever wanted, because it’s the only way I have of getting away. So it’s what I want for you as well: someone who could actually advance your place in society, help you better yourself.”

              “She does make me better, Eliza, you have no idea.”

              “Yes, I do have an idea, I can see that now,” Eliza said sheepishly. “Now that I see you together, and I’ve met her properly. And I can see how happy you are. I’m trying to understand, and I’ll try harder.” She turned to Anne. “I’m sorry, Miss – Can I call you Anne?” Anne nodded. “I’m sorry, _Anne_ , I truly am. And you must call me Eliza.”

              “Thank you, Eliza,” Anne said, her voice strong.

              Phillip sighed, leaning back against the pillows, resting his head against Anne’s again, and feeling so much better. His relationship with Eliza and Sam had been bothering him for months. But now he felt they would be okay.

              “I’m sorry,” he said to Anne. “That wasn’t fair to you.”

              Anne giggled. “You’ve put up with enough from my brother. And I want as much of your family as possible to like me.”

              Phillip had no words and hoped Anne could see that in his face. He was in awe of how serious she was. She really wanted to be with him, she really wanted to give him a chance. Phillip could have sung, or cried, or jumped for joy. But since all three of those options would have probably given him a coughing fit, he settled for grossing Sam out by tilting Anne’s chin towards him and leaning in to kiss her. His heart sung when she leaned towards him too. He was allowed to kiss her! Her kiss, chaste as it was, made his heart beat like he was running a marathon.

              Sam slapped his thigh. “Phillip,” he complained. The kid was embarrassed. He felt Anne start to pull away, but he leaned towards her, continuing their kiss, not wanting the moment to end.

              “You’re gonna get in trouble,” Sam complained, and Phillip finally pulled away. In trouble, with who, the nurse?

              He was still in a bit of a daze. He could still smell Anne’s hair, his head was fuzzy from her kiss, he had to catch his breath, but he felt Anne stiffen, felt her lean quickly away from him, and that sobered him up.

              “Uh oh,” breathed Eliza. She had turned around. “Here we go again.”

              Anne had spotted them too, and he heard her breath hitching. It was his parents, framed in the entrance to the ward, scowling like thunder, looking like literal villains out of one of his plays.

              “Maybe they’ll come round if we all talk to them,” Eliza said although she didn’t sound very convinced.

              “I doubt that,” Phillip said.

              “I’m not going anywhere this time,” Anne said harshly, her eyes flashing, her head high, looking as far from the subdued woman who had fled last time he had seen her in the same room with his parents as possible.

              “Good,” said Phillip, feeling a lot braver from her strength.  

              “I have to admit, I was impressed with the way you stood up to them earlier,” Eliza said. “I haven’t seen that before.”

              “Well, they haven’t seen anything yet. I hope they’re ready for a big fight,” Phillip said. “because I am.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phillip finally has to confront his parents about his relationship with Anne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait - Hope you enjoy!  
> EDIT: I realised I left out a line; put it back in, it makes more sense now

Anne hoped she looked a lot braver than she felt. She was holding her head so high her neck was hurting, she was trying to look so stoic she might have been glaring, but on the inside her heart was thumping in her chest and she felt like she was going to be sick.

              The fact that Phillip was still holding her hand was comforting. As was the fact that her side was still pressed against – almost on top of – his as they sat together on the thin bed. He was deliberately squeezing her hands, trying to send her a message of reassurance, tell her he was going to support her; a message that was reaching her loud and clear. Had they always been so in sync? Of course they had, and she had spent the better part of a year trying to ignore that connection. The feeling of being connected to Phillip, supported by him, even – did she dare imagine it might be true, because he seemed to wear it on his sleeve – loved by him, was why she was sitting here watching the powerful pair stalk towards her. The feeling of pure happiness he gave her made it worth it. If Phillip was going to love her and care about her, she was going to let it make her happy. And she was going to love him right back, because that made her happy too. And now that she had made the choice to be with him, the outside world be damned. She was not running away for a third time.

              She also felt better knowing that Eliza and Sam were not vehemently opposed to her. Neither of them could be happy about Phillip being barred from their world and she understood that, but at least they weren’t alienating him too.

              Phillip was leaning his head against hers again – she sat as tall as him in the bed, of course – the corners of their foreheads touching, and Anne loved that he kept doing that. This time, he had leaned in to whisper something. “It’ll be alright.”

              “I know,” she said, because it would. She trusted Phillip. He would put her first. This is what she realized, sitting there for hours wondering if he would wake up: not only that her happiness could disappear in the blink of an eye, and that she couldn’t waste a second more of her time pushing Phillip away, but that she had no reason to push him away. Even though his words, his wonderful words that night in the ring of the circus had promised her that he was serious about her, and the way he asked after her wellbeing and looked out for her around protestors, the way he objected to racist remarks in her presence, even the way he had respected her wish for him to keep his distance spoke volumes as well; seeing Mr. Barnum carry his body out of the circus after going back in looking for her _proved_ he was serious, that he truly cared about her. That he loved her not in spite of the colour of her skin, not because of the colour of her skin (because white men sometimes thought it made her an easy target) but he loved her _and_ the colour of her skin.

              The Carlyles had reached the foot of Phillip’s bed. For people who were seeing their injured son sitting up alert for the first time, they didn’t look very happy. Mrs. Carlyle looked mortified, and she kept glancing around as if all of New York society were going to pop out from under someone’s bed and laugh at her delinquent son. Mr. Carlyle looked just plain angry.

              He didn’t acknowledge Anne, or even Phillip. He just turned to Eliza.

              “I thought I told you not to call for her?”

              Eliza lost a bit of her cool under her father’s gaze.  “Well, Phillip asked. And I didn’t think the decision was ours to make.”

              “I’m very glad she did call for Anne; I wanted to see her again,” Phillip said, staring his parents down. “Mother, Father, I must introduce you to Anne Wheeler again, and give you another chance to comport yourselves with more dignity.” He spoke casually, his voice light, his eyes bright, but his grip on Anne’s hand was vicelike and his palms were sweaty. He was nervous. He was nervous, but he was doing this anyway. It made a warm feeling flow through her.

              “What exactly are we to believe is going on here?” Mr. Carlyle said sharply. It was as if spitting the words out were physically painful. Phillip’s eyes widened slightly. Anne felt his panic. His grip on her hand tightened, and she squeezed right back, holding herself very still, waiting to hear what he would say.

              Since Phillip had woken up, they had had maybe 15 minutes alone together (15 minutes, after weeks of her holding him at painful but amicable arm’s length, which came on the heels of a few weeks of pushing him away in anger). What _was_ going on here? For so long their relationship had been nothing but glances across the room, finding excuses to touch each other, and careful conversations where neither of them danced near the topic of ‘them’: after all, once Anne had decided they could not rewrite the stars, Phillip was accepting of her decision.

              And in those 15 minutes…Anne had said she didn’t want him to deny his feelings for her anymore and had made that very clear in other ways – they had kissed four times (yes, she was counting, because each time was exciting). She just wanted more time to talk to him and to figure out how they were going to face the world. She guessed they were going to have to learn on their feet instead.

              Phillip’s hand was squeezing hers almost painfully. He was holding onto her for comfort, just like she was holding onto him. They were anchored to each other. At least some things they didn’t need to talk about to agree upon.

              Phillip licked his lips, but before he could open his mouth (and Anne was sure he had no idea what to say anyway), Mr. Carlyle ploughed on.

              “What is your goal, Phillip? You wish to embarrass us, you wish to rebel? You’re trying to tell us you disagree with our way of life?”

              Phillip found his voice there.

              “Believe it or not, Father, the world does not revolve around you. I did not ask Anne here now, and was not willing to give up my life for her, just to annoy you.” He seemed confident, but Anne could see beyond the façade he was working so hard to put up. His voice was strong, but strained, his breathing fast, he took any excuse to look away from his parents. Anne could tell, she had spent so many months studying him, even if from afar. And if Anne could tell, certainly so could his parents.

              “I was a young man once. I understand your needs. Give this one some money and move on to the next one. But you mustn’t be seen to be attaching yourself to one woman like her. Being a philanderer is acceptable, being with her is not.” He spoke so casually, so flippantly, as if he couldn’t care less, but he was watching Phillip carefully.

              So was Anne. She didn’t feel the effect of his words; she had shut herself down, knowing nothing these people had to say would be good, knowing she would have to put up with them if she wanted to be truly happy. She just watched Phillip.

              And she didn’t think she had ever seen him this angry. Ever. Not even when Sam was being nasty earlier. His eyes had gone wide and his face had gone red beneath his bandages, black eye, burns and bruises. He was livid.

              “How dare you?” Phillip’s voice came out as a hoarse whisper. Anne didn’t know Mr. Carlyle; she couldn’t tell if his ambivalence was genuine, and he really had no qualms about deeply insulting her to her face, or if it was carefully calculated to goad Phillip into a reaction. If that was the purpose, it worked.

              “Take it back,” Phillip growled through gritted teeth; his mouth barely moved. He was practically shaking with rage. His grip on her hand was actually painful now, and his other hand had gone to grab her wrist, as if holding her to him.

              Mr. Carlyle slowly raised his eyebrows, as if Phillip’s reaction was mildly interesting. “Oh, have I struck a nerve there, Phillip? Have I discovered the truth of this situation? Or have I simply pointed out the truth that as long as you live, there is no way you could tie yourself to her that would be irreversible for a man like you, and you don’t like the look of it?”

              Mrs. Carlyle was nodding along to what her husband was saying, without a care for the effect his words had on her son; or her daughter, who had been getting paler and paler until eventually she dropped her head into her hands. Sam just looked confused.

              Phillip turned to Anne with a look of panic. He’d started to rub his thumb along her hand almost feverishly, she wasn’t sure who that was meant to be comforting to. His blue eyes were wide and vulnerable and terrified. He thought she was going to run again.

              Anne realized she really should. She knew Mr. Carlyle’s words should have been painful if she hadn’t shut down that part of herself, but she could see the truth of them. Phillip could profess his love for her publicly, he could father her children, he could marry her, but since it wouldn’t be legal, nothing would be stopping him from simply walking away from her with his reputation slightly tarnished perhaps, but salvageable. He could buy his way back into society and throw money at her to ease his conscience.

              Anne looked into Phillip’s eyes. Her heart melted at how scared he looked. He didn’t want her to go. She wanted to reach out and stroke his bruised face, wipe away the irrational fear. All Anne could do, under his family’s gaze, was reach across and grasp his upper arm that was pressing against her. She met his eyes and gave him a small smile, tried to open her eyes to him to show him all the trust she had. She knew in her heart he would never do that. Had he not spent months proving that to her? Had he not been rejected and disinherited in the process, without a complaint? How stupid did his father think he was that he would sprint towards his death to rescue someone he was just going to throw away? Nothing his father could say would convince him to leave her.

              “Don’t make her suffer the indignity of being a white man’s paramour.”

              Well, that might do the trick.

              Phillip’s eyes fell downcast for the first time. He was struck with a fit of coughing, his lips puffing as he tried to hold in it, causing his mother to fuss over him loudly while looking around to see who was noticing her. His brow was furrowed slightly, and Anne saw – which scared her – a slight glistening in his eyes. He was glancing at her slightly out of the corner of his eye, and she could see him thinking. Probably thinking of every conversation he’d ever had with W.D., thinking how easy it had been for him to let go of her hand, yet how devastating for her, remembering the way _she_ had told him that she couldn’t have him though she wanted him, that her hands were tied.

              Hearing what W.D., many of the other black performers, and she herself had been trying to tell him coming out of his father’s mouth hit him hard, Anne could tell. She could tell from the guilt on his face that the irony of listening to his father, when he had not listened to them, who knew better than anyone, was not lost on him. She knew the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. She was scared he wouldn’t want to risk it.

              It was probably time she said something. Anne licked her lips, sat up a little straighter. Phillip glanced at her, and she gave him her best imitation of a smile.

              “Phillip makes me happy,” Anne said. It was the first thing that came into her head, but it got everyone’s attention. Phillip’s head snapped up and he looked at her with wide eyes, and the hint of a hopeful smile. Eliza smiled kindly. Mrs. Carlyle leaned away from her, looking offended. Mr. Carlyle barely moved, just cocked his eyebrow.

              “I want Phillip to care about me. I care about him too. And I feel no shame in this,” Anne continued. Phillip’s face broke out into the biggest grin she had ever seen. “I’m ready to fight a few battles.”

              Mr. and Mrs. Carlyle looked offended that she would dare speak in their presence again, especially to defy them. Mrs. Carlyle looked like she wanted to shove Anne out of the bed, to break her away from Phillip. She even jerked as Anne spoke. Mr. Carlyle still wouldn’t steep so low as to look at her, but he huffed and puffed as she spoke.

              Phillip leaned comfortingly against her arm, beaming. Hopefully that was what he needed to hear; that he made her happy, that it would hurt her more to give up on them now. Feeling brave now, Anne looked directly into Mrs. Carlyle’s eyes (Mr. Carlyle still wouldn’t look at her). “I make your son happy; can’t you be happy for him?”

              Mrs. Carlyle looked about ready to explode. “How dare you question the way I treat my son? How dare you question a mother – you have no idea – ” It was the first time she spoke directly to Anne.

“Mother,” Phillip said, reaching his arm across Anne’s lap as if he could somehow shield her from his mother’s words.

              “Our job as parents is to protect him from ruining himself with the likes of you. We must teach him right from wrong,” Mr. Carlyle was speaking to her now. She had confused them. By acting like she had the right to speak in their presence, she had gotten it.

              “He’s not a child,” Eliza tried to intervene.

              “I see what the problem is now, Phillip; your lover has as much trouble remembering her place as you do. She encourages you,” Mr. Carlyle said.

              “Stop calling her that,” Phillip said through gritted teeth, his face red. Anne was past blushing, past caring. The way these people looked at her, spoke to her, didn’t matter anymore because she knew she and Phillip weren’t going to let them win.

              “But you said so yourself earlier, you said you loved her,” Sam said. He spoke plaintively, like he just wanted everyone to get along, like he was trying to make them see eye to eye.

              “That’s not what he means, Sam, he’s insulting Anne’s character.”

              It took the full meaning of Sam’s words a moment to hit Anne. Phillip had told them he loved her. He _loved_ her. Well, that much had been obvious for a while, but hearing it said aloud was unreal, gave Anne feelings she had never felt before. Anne could have started singing. Even under the Carlyle’s stern gaze, Anne felt her face break out in an unabashed smile. Mrs. Carlyle looked like the vein in her head was about to pop and Anne covered her mouth with her hand. She felt almost too embarrassed to look at Phillip, but she could sense him looking at her, could feel the smile on his face as he realized what she was thinking.

              “What’s your plan, Phillip?” Mr. Carlyle barked. “Where are you going to work, if you won’t write plays? Are you going to languish in obscurity as the ex-apprentice of a short-lived freak show? Is that what you want from life?”

              “The Circus may not be so short-lived, Father, if I have anything to do with it.”

              Anne looked at him inquisitively. He gave her a cocky smile and his classic head tilt. He had a plan brewing.

              “We’re trying to help you return to polite society here.”

              “It’s not New York society I have a problem with – I was carefree and at ease before, if not happy. Now my problem is with you. Because you keep trying to drag me away from happiness. I am not going to let my friends lose their employment and starve in the street. If that means you can’t talk to me, then so be it.”

              “Your inheritance can be reinstated still, Phillip,” Mrs. Carlyle said. “Can’t it, dear?”

              “By all means, give it to Sam. It comes at too high a price for me.”

              “Phillip has made his choice, Mama, Daddy. We don’t need to understand; I don’t. But he doesn’t need to become a stranger,” Eliza pleaded.

              “And should we fail as parents? Give up our parental duty to make him a productive member of society?” Mr. Carlyle said calmly.

              “And let him drag our family name down with him?” said Mrs. Carlyle.

              “I’m sorry,” said Phillip angrily. “But I was under the impression that you were here to comfort me because I’m unwell, not to offer me an ultimatum.”

              “There is no ultimatum. Your actions affect the wellbeing of the business, and more importantly, this family’s good name and future. Think of Sam’s future.”

              “Speaking of which,” Phillip put out his other hand and grasped Sam’s shoulder. “You can’t cut me off from Sam any longer.”

              “We can’t be seen to allow your bad influence to corrupt our baby,” Mrs. Carlyle said reaching across both Anne and Phillip to grasp Sam’s face in her hands. Sam looked down at the bed, saying nothing but leaning into his Mother’s hands. His tears were starting to fall again.

              “Sam will be a man soon enough and then he can spend as much time with me as he chooses, but in the mean time, he isn’t going to forget who is keeping me from him.” Anne could see Mrs. Carlyle could see Phillip’s point, but she said nothing, only released Sam’s face. He wiped his eyes furiously and scowled at all of them.

              “If you are here to sit at my sickbed, have a seat, and let’s move on.” Phillip said, giving Sam’s shoulder a comforting rub.

              "We did not travel all the way down here to sit with the likes of her," Mrs. Carlyle said, waving a hand at Anne. 

              “I would love it if you would stay, but you don’t have to. You’re free to go," Phillip responded without missing a beat.   

              Mr. Carlyle was startled by this. Phillip had flipped the conversation, forced him to be the one to walk away. Anne held her breath. Mr. Carlyle did not hesitate long. He stood, looking at his wife. Following his lead, she stood too, but she looked pleadingly at Phillip, begging him to ask them to stay, but he didn’t.

              “Get up, Sam. We’re leaving.” Sam stood immediately. Phillip squeezed his shoulder as he stood, giving him an encouraging nod. Anne couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw the slightest bit of a comforted smile on Sam’s tear stained face. Then he was following his father out of the ward.

              “Eliza,” Mrs. Carlyle called as she turned to leave.

              “I don’t mind sitting next to Anne, why should I go?” Eliza said haughtily. “I want to sit with my brother.” Phillip grinned.

              “Eliza, come here,” Mrs. Carlyle said.

              “I’m not missing out on seeing Phillip for silly reasons.”

              “You can meet Lettie and the others, when they come back,” Philip said excitedly.

              Mrs. Carlyle shot Phillip a look to say ‘look what you’ve done’ before heading with her husband and son towards the exit.

              Anne felt Phillip exhale shakily, felt him relax back against the headboard. He put his arm around her and pulled her closer to him than he had ever been able to before, more for his comfort than for hers, she suspected, as they watched his family leave the ward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Barnum's show up next chapter - and encounter the Carlyles


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Phillip prepares to leave the hospital, his parents come to bother him one last time, and encounter the Barnums.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter! I have loved loved loved writing this, and I absolutely love all the wonderful feedback! That being said, enjoy the last chapter!

The sun streamed in through the hospital ward windows, creating bright white squares across the beds and on the floor. Some had been opened to let in some cool, fresh air, but Phillip still couldn’t wait to get out of there. He had spent four incredibly long days doing nothing but lying in bed, and today he was finally being released. Once his coughing had come under control and his burns stopped stinging quite so much, bedrest had become unbearable, even with the near constant stream of circus performers coming through, giving the nurses heart attacks. Eliza had come to visit again, but Phillip was disappointed that she had not been allowed to bring Sam.

And, like a dream come true, Anne had sat by his side as often as she could; when W.D. was not dragging her away to eat, sleep, and go out and buy new clothes. His favourite moments were the moments they got to spend alone, though those were few and far between. He got to kiss her and stroke her hair and watch it make her smile. He got to ask her how this made her feel and what she wanted to do about it. His heart sung when her answer was that he made her believe they could be together, and that it was worth it to try. He nearly leapt out of bed and did a dance through the ward.

Now Anne waited around the curtain Nurse Redfern had erected around the bed while she helped him dress. She eased his shirt over his head and he sat shivering while she reached for the dress shirt Anne had brought him. That he could put on himself. He gingerly slipped his right arm into the sleeve. That was the worst of the burns: he had never gotten a good look yet, as even when he bathed his arm was covered in bandages, but now the bandages had been taken off and Phillip could see the raw, red bumpiness of the scar. It was painful to touch, as were the less severe burns over his chest and sides, which was why he needed help dressing. It would certainly leave a bad scar, Sam was right, but it was worth it. The bandages on his head had been removed and he felt a lot more like himself.

When his shirt was buttoned and tucked in, Nurse Redfern pulled aside the curtain and revealed Anne’s shining face. She was wearing a new dress – well, she had to – with a blue overcoat, and her curls hung loose, framing her face.

“Alright, you’re all set, Mr. Carlyle,” Nurse Redfern said.

“Thank you,” Phillip said, giving her a genuine smile, hoping it showed how grateful he was at how helpful she had been and for her kindness to Anne.

Phillip held out his hand to Anne. It was their first test outside the walls of the hospital. Anne reached out and entwined her small, rough hand with his. They both smiled.

“You know – you know what Sam said when he was here. What he said I said?” Phillip said shyly, looking down at their intertwined hands as they walked down the ward. “It’s true, you know.”

He watched confusion, realization and joy flash across her face as she remembered. But he wanted to say it himself.

He stopped her just before they reached the door of the ward – their last moment of safety – and held her face between his hands so he could look into her eyes. “I love you,” he said firmly, his heart thumping madly.

Anne’s face broke out in a shining grin. “I know,” she said proudly. He watched her gulp, he hoped he knew what was coming next: he wanted to hear it, for it to be true, so badly.

“I love you too,” Anne said, her hands coming up to hold onto his wrists. Phillip’s heart soared. He honestly hadn’t known whether she loved him or not, he had worried the full extent of his feelings were one-sided. But she loved him too. Anne Wheeler was in love with him. He felt nowhere near worthy, but he was going to spend every minute trying to make it worth her while.

Anne was smiling watching his reaction. He leaned his forehead against hers for a moment and they both closed their eyes, just drinking each other in for a moment.

“What are we going to do?” Anne breathed, and he felt her breath against his lips. He wasn’t sure if she was talking about the outside world that was going to hate to reject them, their unemployment because of the destroyed circus or simply where they were going to look for the others, but he knew the answer to all three.

“We’re going to be fine,” he said confidently. He felt her nod.

They pulled back, still holding hands, and pushed open the hospital doors.

And walked right into his parents.

They all looked startled for a moment. Phillip heard Anne mutter, “oh no,” which made him want to chuckle, but the look on his father’s face made him think better of it.

Father, Mother, and Sam were standing at the top of the wide, white hospital steps. Sam was looking queasy; his parents just looked exasperated.

“What are you doing here?” Phillip said, sounding accusatory, but he was mostly just startled.

“The doctor told us you were being released today. You didn’t think to inform us yourself?” Father said.

“I wrote to Eliza,” Phillip said lightly. “Where is she, by the way?”

“She isn’t here,” Father said.

“She said she didn’t want to interfere in your business,” Sam spoke up helpfully. Mrs. Carlyle shot him a look, but he smiled smugly. He knew what he was doing.

“I see, and how are you planning to interfere in my business?” Phillip asked.

Before Father could continue, Mother interrupted. “Must you do that out in the open?” she said, glaring at his and Anne’s still intertwined hands. “Where anyone can see you?”

“Ah, is that how?” Phillip said flippantly. “Yes, I must, Mother.”

He saw Anne press her lips together to keep from smirking. Phillip felt more confident defying them now and he could tell Anne felt lighter too. Something about their conversation a few days ago had changed everything. He could speak defiantly to them without fear; he would survive. So much had changed since the times when they could control him with mere glances across a theatre.

“Phillip, we came here today to implore you to reconsider your choices. We are being more than fair in being so patient. Many a wayward son has been cut out without so much as a backward glance.”

Once again, Father was interrupted, this time by two high pitched, delighted screams. Phillip turned around to see the entire Barnum family climbing out of a carriage at the foot of the hospital steps. As P.T. helped Charity down, Caroline and Helen were already running up the steps towards him, screaming their heads off. Mother and Father practically jumped out of their way in disgust, dragging a confused Sam with them. Phillip let go of Anne’s hand to drop down on one knee, so he could catch the girls.

Helen hit him first, wrapping her tiny arms tightly around his neck. Caroline grabbed him right after, leaning her head against his shoulder.

“You’re better!” Helen shrieked in his ear.

“We missed you!” Caroline said.

“I missed you too,” Phillip said, wrapping one arm around each of them and squeezing them both.

Over the top of Caroline’s head, he could see Sam watching him with narrowed eyes. Sam had no idea who the girls were; or why they were behaving in what they had both always been taught was an undignified and inappropriate manner. He felt a guilty twist in his stomach because Sam hadn’t been so affectionate since he was a baby; the behaviour was unseemly. The lives of Sam and the girls couldn’t be more different despite Barnum’s big house and their new clothes. Whatever Barnum was trying to do, whatever status he was trying to reach (or had been trying to reach, he should say), his children were still carefree and relaxed and – often – wild. All things Sam would never be allowed to be. Sam could never understand things that were commonplace to them. He would never comprehend why, not so long ago, Caroline had learned from watching her parents to pretend not to be hungry on weeks her father was between jobs, so that Helen could eat her fill (Mrs. Barnum had shared this with him in a quiet moment after P.T. had left), or why Helen would pretend to love the pink frills on the dresses she got as hand-me-downs from Caroline (Helen herself had announced this to him while spinning around in front of Lettie’s mirror in a brand new dress). They understood real life in a way Sam never would.

Phillip stood – the girls attached themselves to his sides, painfully pressing against his burns – as P.T. and Charity came up the hospital steps. Emerging from the carriage behind them, like a woodland animal blinking in sudden light, was a woman he recognized from his old circle as Mrs. Hallett, Charity’s mother. That struck him as strange. But then –

“Son!” P.T. called as he strode up the steps. “You’re on your own two feet. It’s a miracle!”

“It’s no miracle, it’s thanks to you,” Phillip said.

P.T. reached the top of the steps and clapped Phillip into a hug around his daughters. He hadn’t managed to visit Phillip – he had a lot to worry about, what with his family and dealing with the cancellation of the tour and the banks – but Phillip was glad to see he looked unscathed from his race into the burning circus.

“Thank you,” Phillip said seriously. He knew he wouldn’t be standing here if not for P.T.’s bravery.

“I’m glad you’re alright, son,” P.T. said, clapping him on the back. Then he was practically pushed out of the way by Charity, who folded him into a tight hug and rubbed his back.

“Thank goodness you’re alright. You gave us a scare,” Charity said kindly. Her hug melted away the last of his pain. She pulled back to put her hands on his face and scowl as she examined his cuts and bruises. Then she patted his cheek and stepped back. She took Anne’s arm, and the action made Anne smile.

Only now did they seem to notice his parents, standing by and watching the scene with horror. Father was standing with a scowl on his face, and Mother looked like she could smell something foul. The Barnums’ openness and affection were undignified and embarrassing to them, and Sam simply looked fascinated. Phillip took a deep breath.

“How rude of me, Mother, Father, may I introduce Mr. and Mrs. Barnum and their daughters, Helen and Caroline?” He touched each of their heads. “It was Mr. Barnum who got me safely out of the circus.”

Mr. Barnum tipped his hat to Mother, but she only stared. He held out his hand for Father to shake, but Father looked at his hand, looked him in the eye and simply refused. Phillip saw P.T.’s show-stopping smile falter. Charily also offered her hand, with no better results. It was a grave insult and Phillip was mortified on behalf of his parents.

“Caroline, Helen, this is my brother, Samuel,” Phillip tried again. He knew the girls knew of Sam’s existence, but not much else.

Caroline, ever the little lady, unpeeled herself from his side and offered Sam, still standing between their parents, her hand. Sam’s eyes widened, and he panicked. He had already reached up to remove his hat automatically, the way he had always been taught. His eyes darted between Caroline, who looked to him just like any girl in their circle – P.T. made sure of that – and his parents, who stood like statues. He would normally get in trouble for failing to greet someone properly, but now he was afraid of getting in trouble for engaging with people below him. Phillip saw Caroline frown in confusion. Not that she wasn’t used to this. Charity was reaching out to pull her back.

“You can shake her hand, Sam,” Phillip said. Sam looked up at him, blue eyes wide. Phillip nodded at him and gave a smile.

Sam shook her hand properly and then dropped it like a hot coal and stepped back to stand by Mother’s side. Charity took Caroline by the shoulder and drew her to her other side.

Out of the corner of his eye, Phillip saw Mrs. Hallet standing at the bottom of the hospital steps, fiddling feverishly with her handbag.

“And I know you know Mrs. Hallet,” he said, trying not to sound confused, but he caught Anne’s eye and she gave a confused frown and head tilt.

Now, Mrs. Hallett his parents acknowledged. They all nodded their heads and muttered how-do-you-dos to each other. Phillip was not surprised at the awkwardness. His parents were among many who gossiped mercilessly when the Hallett’s daughter ran off to marry the poor railway-made tailor’s boy. It was before Phillip’s time, of course, but the Hallets still had looks follow them wherever they went, especially when the circus got popular. And now his parents were in the same situation, or perhaps an even worse one, and they were too embarrassed even to make eye contact with Mrs. Hallet.

Charity stepped forward. “Yes, my mother is coming with the girls and me into the city to pick up some things for the performers, replacing what’s been lost and the like. It’s a chance to get reacquainted.” She smiled at her Mother warmly, and apparently even her Mother was not immune to that smile: she smiled back warmly. Phillip noticed Helen and Caroline surveilling Mrs. Hallet shyly.

“Not you, Mr. Barnum?” Anne asked.

P.T. shook his head. “I’m going to see if the bank will give us a loan to rebuild. Then I’ll go report to everyone down at the circus. They’re searching for anything that might be salvageable.”

“Oh, Phillip wanted to surprise everyone, we should head down there,” Anne said. Phillip flashed her a smile. He loved how relaxed she finally looked.

“Sounds fun,” Charity said, tightening her grip on Anne’s arm.

“Hang on just a moment,” Father said imperiously. Sam was watching him nervously. Helen squeezed Phillip a little tighter. “We have travelled all the way down here to see you, and we do not intend to be ignored.”

“Do you wish to come down to the circus?” Phillip asked breezily.

“We have not yet finished our discussion on your behaviour. I would like to speak to you in private,” Father said, his eyes travelling over Charity and the girls, P.T., Anne and landing on Mrs. Hallet, the one person whose opinion he actually cared about.

“I think we have finished our discussion,” Phillip said. He was glad to hear that he sounded calm, especially in front of the girls and Sam, because he didn’t feel calm. His heart was thumping, and he held Helen tightly against him for comfort. These were his parents and obeying them had been deeply programmed into him.

“You just aren’t used to not getting your own way.”

“How can my boy have grown up to be so selfish?” Mother lamented. “You forget your family, which has given you everything.”

P.T. stepped forward and grasped Phillip’s shoulder. “He is not your boy, nor does he owe you a thing, you stuck up – ”

“Phin,” Charity said quietly, calmly, and Phillip didn’t think he had ever seen P.T. shut his mouth so quickly. “Let Phillip talk,” Charity finished.

Phillip reached out and took Anne’s hand again. She ran her thumb over the back of it.

“I don’t know why you bothered coming down here this morning. You have nothing to control me with, you’ve already taken everything from me. You took my inheritance.”

Mr. Carlyle was stumped by that.

“You’ll have to disown me,” Phillip spoke clearly.

Father opened his mouth and Phillip felt his stomach drop. He knew Father was going to do it. They all stood in a line against him from Caroline to Charity to Anne, who was grounding him, with Helen and P.T. holding him on his other side. Phillip braced himself.

Then, Mrs. Hallet spoke from the bottom of the steps.

“Whatever you say, it won’t make a difference,” she said. She was soft spoken like her daughter. She took a step up the stairs. “There’s nothing you can say, or do, that will stop him.” She looked at Phillip and Anne’s entwined hands, then at Charity. “And people will talk either way, so you may as well not miss out on years. Or children.” Phillip felt heat rise to his face.

Mother looked down her nose at Caroline and Helen, then at Anne. “I think in our case, the stakes are significantly higher where children are concerned.”

“And, unlike you, we need not make concessions. We have other children on which to base our future. Come Agatha, Sam,” Father said, and he turned to leave.

Phillip’s heart sank.

Sam wouldn’t budge. Father had a hand on his shoulder, trying to lead him down the steps, but he wouldn’t move. He just looked at Phillip with big sad eyes. Phillip could see he was begging him, he wanted him to cave, he couldn’t see why Phillip wasn’t bowing to Father’s will. But one day he would.

“Go on, Sam. You’ll see me soon, I promise.” Phillip would make sure of it, even if Eliza had to sneak him away for an afternoon. He made eye contact with Mother, and she looked down. A concession. She knew how spiteful Sam could be, how he would remember it if they didn’t let Eliza take him to see Phillip sometimes, so long as no one found out about it. And besides, he was spoiled. They had never denied Sam a thing in his life. “You’re too young to be without them. It’s okay, you can go.”

Phillip watched Sam nod quickly and then turn away before Phillip could see him cry: but Phillip could tell. He watched Mother and Father lead him down the hospital steps, each with a hand on his back.

“Goodbye,” he called after them. He knew it was not a salutation, it was one last act of defiance. Mother faltered, but she had to keep pace with Father who did not turn round. They bundled Sam into a waiting carriage and in a moment they were gone.

Phillip felt like crumpling. He felt Anne disentangle her hand from his, only to wrap her arms around his neck and hug him close. He wrapped his free arm around her. It was miraculous how much better she made him feel.

“Phillip, why are you sad?” Helen said. “They were mean.”

Phillip chuckled. “Yes, they were.”

“I know, I know,” Charity was behind him, rubbing is back. “I know how you feel . But you never know, you never know… in the future, maybe things will be different...”

“Oh, I think I do know,” Phillip said, and he heard his voice break. Anne held him tighter. He breathed in the smell of her hair, enjoyed the sensation of her cheek resting against his shoulder. She made him happier than his parents ever had; than anyone ever had.

“I thought I knew too, and now…” Charity said, looking down the steps at her mother. She gave his back a final pat and stepped away. “Come girls. Let’s take grandmama downtown,” she took each girl by the hand, and they turned around and waved as they headed down the steps towards Mrs. Hallet.

Now Phillip wrapped his free arm around Anne too. P.T. clapped him on the back. “You alright, son?”

“Yeah. It’s not as if I didn’t see this coming.” He smiled. “And now it’s over and done with. I think I’m going to be a lot happier from here on out.”

P.T. stepped back with his usual wide grin. He gestured to how tightly Phillip was holding Anne. “So, am I to believe this is finally happening?”

Phillip smiled at him and pressed a kiss to Anne’s forehead. She gave a delighted gasp and blushed.

“Yes, and I’ve never been more grateful for anything in my life,” he said.

“Mr. Barnum, don’t be coy. I happen to know we’ve been the gossip of the circus for four days straight,” Anne said.

“You got me,” P.T. said, raising his hands in surrender. “Right!” His characteristic enthusiasm was back, somehow. “Are you off to the Circus? I’ll walk you on my way to the bank.” He rubbed his hands together.

“We’re right behind you,” Phillip said pointedly. Anne blushed some more.

“Oh, gotcha,” P.T. said, and then, with a sly grin he swaggered off.

Phillip held Anne at arm’s length and looked her in the eye.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Anne’s brow creased. “Are you okay? That was…I can’t imagine my mama would have ever…”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Phillip assured her, and he found that he was. More than fine. He was free. “I’m happy. You’re here.”

Anne rolled her eyes. “You’re hopeless.” She smiled. “But I’m not going anywhere.” She started to pull away and reach for his hand. “Come on, let’s go see everyone.”

“Wait,” Phillip held her more tightly and she stopped. “There’s something I wanted to try in public first.”

A smile crept onto Anne’s face; she knew what he was planning to do. She leaned towards him as he drew her to him. He cradled her face in his hands and kissed her, as softly and sweetly as he could. He heard her give a little sigh, and it only made him want to pull her nearer, his stomach doing back flips, fireworks going off in his head. This had been everything he ever wanted, everything he ever needed, for so long.

Finally, they drew apart. Phillip found he was breathless. Anne bumped her forehead playfully against his before drawing back and looking nervously around.  
The sky had not fallen, the earth had not ceased to rotate, no wrath from God rained down on them; in fact, no one in the busy street seemed to have noticed. One couple at the bottom of the hospital steps were pointing surreptitiously and gossiping, but when Phillip looked at them they scurried on their way.

Emboldened, Anne gave Phillip another squeeze and he held her right back, putting one hand on the back of her head to hold her against him.

“I love you,” Anne said ecstatically.

“I love you too.” He took her hand. “To the circus?”

And to the circus they went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imma shamelessly plug my own work, and say I've posted a sequel-esque story to this one that takes place three years later: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14331051


End file.
